


Promises, Promises

by Youremyalways



Series: Promises verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Father!Dean, Hurt!Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Love, M/M, Makeup Sex, Mpreg, Pregnant Sam Winchester, Smut, comfort!Dean, father!Sam, hurt!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24688141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youremyalways/pseuds/Youremyalways
Summary: Sam gets some unexpected news in the form of a positive pregnancy test. The revelation sends him into a spiral of fear and doubt. How and when does he tell Dean? And how does Dean react once he does?Angst. Comfort. Happy ending. Smut in chapter 2.Part one of an ongoing series.Enjoy.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Promises verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784953
Comments: 8
Kudos: 424





	1. Finding out and Fighting Insecurity

_ Tap tap tap. _

Sam felt the anxiety deep in his stomach, coiled up like a live wire twisting around his insides. His foot was bouncing up and down on the floor of the impala, fingers playing with the hem of his flannel. They were only five minutes out from the bunker, but the drive felt like hours. 

_ Tap tap tap. _

There was a hole burning it’s way through his jean pocket on the right side. A fire the shape of a rectangle box was scarring his flesh, and it was the only thing he could think about. He kept trying to focus on the road, or the music, or the stitching on the door beside him, but he couldn’t. All he could think about was the item tucked away in his pocket, hidden from anyone’s vision but his own.

_ Tap tap tap. _

It was a false alarm. That’s what it was. The test was just to confirm it. All the puking in the morning, the body aches, the fatigue… it was all normal. A bug. A virus. It had to be.

_ Tap tap tap. _

Sam let out a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He hadn’t told Dean anything. He didn’t tell him when he started experiencing symptoms, he didn’t tell him when he first got the suspicion, and when he went to buy the tests? He made sure Dean was getting gas when he went into the store so he wouldn’t see. But now the two sticks were in his pocket and they were burning. 

_ Tap tap tap. _

He closed his eyes and turned his head towards the window so Dean wouldn’t see the emotions on his face. He just wanted to get back home, lock himself in the bathroom, and prove to himself that this wasn’t real. He was not pregnant. 

_ God, _ he hated that word. It made bile crawl up his throat.

“Sam!” The call of his name shocked him out of his worries and catapulted him back to the real world. He swallowed down the fear and turned to Dean, poker face on.

“What?” He asked, internally patting himself on the back for how casual he sounded.

“Can you quit it with the fidgeting?” Dean asked, somewhat annoyed. He kept his eyes on the road as he gestured to Sam’s leg, “Your messing with my concentration.”

“Uh…” Sam started, clearing his throat. For a moment he thought he was caught, but he kept pushing through, “Yeah, sorry. Leftover adrenaline.”

And yeah, that was a pretty good lie. He and Dean had finished up a ghoul hunt barely three hours ago. It went pretty smoothly -bumps and bruises, but no serious injuries- but it was still a hunt, and every hunt got Sam riled up a bit. The risk, the adrenaline, the feeling of success. It took a little while to completely shake off. So, yeah… pretty good lie.

Believable enough, anyway, because Dean didn’t seem to be suspicious at all. He just shrugged as he took a right turn and acknowledged, “Whatever, just… cool it.” 

Sam just nodded. 

He had to make a conscious effort to stop his leg from bouncing. The limb felt heavier now that he was focusing on it, like suddenly gravity weighed more on that single part of his body. He also peeled his hands away from his flannel and laid them flat on his thighs. His fingers kept twitching with the desire to do  _ something _ , but Sam buried it. He stared down at his body and willed it to stay still. At least it finally took his mind somewhat off of the tests in his pocket. As long as he was concentrating on not moving his body, he wasn’t concentrating on the fact that he was quite possibly carrying Dean’s child. 

The last five minutes of the ride felt equally as long as the first three hours. If not longer. Turns out time passes pretty slow when all you can think about is not bouncing your leg up and down.

He didn’t even realize when they pulled over in front of the bunker, eyes still trained on his hands and brain still trained on his worries. 

“Yo,” Dean shoved his shoulder to knock him out of the trance after he put the car in park and Sam still hadn’t budged, “We’re here.”

Sam shot his head up and quickly looked around, flicking his gaze from Dean’s face to the window and then back to Dean’s face. He cleared his throat and refocused. Dean was giving him a half-confused, half-skeptical glance, eyes narrowed and eyebrows pulled in tight.

“Dude, what?” Sam asked, trying to play it off like Dean was the one acting weird, even though he knew fully well it was him who was off the rails.

“Nothing.” Dean answered, the skepticism slipping off his face as he switched from offense to defense. He looked like he was about to speak again, but then he just closed his mouth and mumbled again, “Nothing.” 

“Okay, good.” Sam acknowledged halfheartedly as he unbuckled himself and opened his car door. He slipped out of the car with a slight groan as he straightened his back out.

Dean followed suit, slipping out of the driver’s side and shutting the door behind him. He hit the button on the keys and the impala made it’s signature noise and then the two of them were walking to the door. 

Now that they were moving, Sam felt the anxiety deep within him surface once again. No more leg to focus on. No more hands. Just the barely-there weight of two pregnancy tests in his pocket draining all of his concentration and energy. He was only able to follow Dean on instinct alone, and when his brother reached his arm out and planted a hand on the small of Sam’s back, it took everything he had to not flinch away. 

It was a fairly old habit of Dean’s. To Sam’s memory, it started a couple of years ago, a few months after they first got together. He always did it after a successful hunt. Sam assumed it was out of relief that a hunt went well, or maybe it was just Dean reminding himself that Sam was okay. Dean might not even realize he was doing it. Sam never asked. Maybe he was scared that if he brought attention to it, Dean would stop. And Sam didn’t want Dean to stop. Usually, it reassured both of them. But not today.

Today it took every ounce of self-control in Sam’s body to not grab Dean’s arm and yank it away. He was too on edge. Too nervous. 

Dean didn’t seem to notice, however, and for that, Sam was grateful. 

They made their way into the bunker silently, and they continued that way until they reached the main room and Dean let his hand slip off of Sam so he could chuck his jacket off and throw it onto a nearby chair. Sam went to shake his own jacket off but froze when he realized it would reveal the bulge in his pocket from the pregnancy test boxes. He straightened his shoulders back out and tightened the jacket around him. Luckily Dean wasn’t looking his way.

“Look at that, only nine o’clock.” Dean smiled overly wide as he looked down at his watch and sat down, tugging his boots off. He suggestively moved his eyebrows up and down with a smirk across his lips as he added, “We’ve got plenty of time for some extracurriculars, Sammy boy.”

Sam raised his brows a little as the panic set in. He couldn’t… they couldn’t… no, no, no.

“Urgh, yeah, maybe.” He stuttered, not really comprehending anything but his need to get the hell out of here and into a bathroom. 

Yes. Once he got into a bathroom and saw the negative sign on the pregnancy tests everything could go back to normal. 

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom quick.” He tried as hard as he could to pass it off as nonchalant. He laughed a little to himself at how ironic that was; Trying hard to be nonchalant. 

“Where’s the fire?” Dean teased a bit as Sam scurried out of the room rapidly. There was no heat to it though. Once Sam was in the hallway, he just tilted his head and moved to the kitchen to get a beer, passing off Sam’s behavior as post-hunt jitters. 

Meanwhile Sam was literally whispering to himself as he rushed down the hallway to the bathroom farthest away from the main room. The last thing he needed was Dean walking in on him. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He whispered as he breathed in and out steadily, “You’re fine.”

When he reached the bathroom, he opened the door with a shaky hand and closed it behind him, sliding the bar above the doorknob into it’s bracket to lock the door. He then swallowed and placed both hands against the discolored wood, leaning forward to rest his forehead against it as well. He closed his eyes and took a couple deep, stabilizing breaths before backing away from the door and shrugging his jacket off. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror as he took the tests out of his pocket, afraid of the emotions he would see on his own face.

He handled the boxes with as little of his skin as possible, as if they would burn him. He opened the first one with his fingernails, still literally counting his breaths in order to calm himself down and keep himself from passing out or throwing up. He pulled the first test out and felt the tears burn in his eyes as he looked at it. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and unwrapped the second one as well. This was so fucked. 

He sat down on the edge of the tub as he read over the instructions, holding his head up with one hand and the box with the other. Once he was sure he knew what to do, he stood up in front of the toilet and went about his business. It took maybe half a minute to get his body to listen to him. He was so nervous it was difficult to… perform. But he did. And he held each stick under the stream, cleaned himself up, and then washed his hands before adjusting himself and setting two timers, each a couple seconds off from the other. 

He closed his eyes and swallowed down the fear as he sat back down on the edge of the tub, literally counting his breaths as a way to soothe his nerves. He felt electric with anxiety and fear. 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10… inhale.

He tried not to think about how Dean would react if this thing didn’t go in their favor. If Sam was really carrying a baby. They were hunters, this wasn’t their life. They couldn’t be fathers. Sam couldn’t be pregnant. What if Dean asked him to abort it… oh God… Sam choked up and shook his head to clear that thought away. He couldn’t handle it right now. 

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… exhale.

What if Dean left? What if he had been with Sam because he was guaranteed sex. What if they were together so often that it was just easier to get laid with Sam around. What if he hated kids. What if the thought of Sam’s kid disgusted him. What if it was all about lust. What if there was another man or woman out there that could provide Dean the intimacy he needed without the burden of a child. What if Dean didn’t want to be a father so bad he was willing to leave Sam altogether to escape it? Sam couldn’t even blame him if he did.

He shook his head. No… dammit, Sam… stop thinking. Breathe.

...5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

He inhaled and tried to push the thoughts away. Who knows, maybe it was negative. Maybe this was all in his head. Maybe it was absolutely nothing.

… 4, 3, 2, 1.

He exhaled and felt his stomach twist a bit as another thought dared creep into his brain. What if… what if he wanted this? What if Sam was a little bit excited to have a child. What if he was a little in love with the idea of carrying a life inside him, caring for it, loving it, protecting it. What if he had been burying this desire for years because he was scared of Dean’s reaction. What if… what if he was hopeful.

… 8, 9, 10.

And what if Dean disagreed. What if Sam was happy about having a kid and Dean was disgusted by it. What if Dean rejected him. What if Dean thought it was gross that Sam wanted this. What if Dean left.

… 3, 2, 1.

Decades of love and hunting and being by Dean’s side could all end here. Decades of death, and life, and resurrection. Decades of fighting, and losing, and winning. He beat the devil himself, was a freaking fetus really going to be the thing that finally drove them apart?

… 9, 10.

Sam went to exhale, but before he could, the beeping of the first timer went off and he felt the entire world stop around him. The earth ceased spinning and time stood still. His heart dropped to his stomach. Sam didn’t even know how he was able to reach out and grab the first stick, it was on pure instinct alone. His mind had no control over it.

His eyes were still closed as he held it in his shaking hand. He breathed out and in a few more times as he gathered the courage to open his eyes and look. After a handful of seconds that felt like a handful of hours, he slipped his eyes open and looked down.

There were two dark pink lines side by side in the display window. 

Sam felt the punch to his gut. The air left him and the tears started almost instantly. He grabbed the box with shaky hands just to double check that two lines meant positive. This had to be a mistake. It had to be. Two lines meant negative. It  _ had to _ . He dropped the box to the ground before he could check because his hands were shaking so bad. He took a deep breath to calm himself down before picking it back up and double checking. It was inarguable. Two lines equaled pregnant. Suddenly gravity felt ten times heavier.

The second timer went off and Sam felt his heartbeat triple as he raced to grab the other stick. Pregnancy tests could be false positives. Definitely. That was the case. The first one was  _ wrong _ .

But as he turned the stick to face him, he saw the word written out clear as day:  _ ‘Pregnant’.  _ He tried to angle it in the light to see if the ‘ _ not’  _ would appear in the space in front of the single word. Sam knew it was futile, and as he set the test back down on the counter, the realization settled over him that he was in fact pregnant. With Dean’s kid.

The world crumpled around him.

The walls folded in. The floor swallowed him whole. The tiles shrunk and the mirror bled down thick streams of glassy liquid. 

His body betrayed him.

His knees gave out. His ass hit the floor. His head throbbed and the nausea came on so suddenly and heavily he barely made it to the toilet seconds before puking up the contents of his stomach. His heart was pounding so fast and loud he could hear it thumping. He couldn’t even see the toilet bowl. 

The tears completely blurred his vision and his brain was so clogged he couldn’t think. His knuckles were turning ghostly white on the edge of the toilet from how hard he was gripping it. 

He threw up two more times before he got control of himself. He then scooted back to sit on the floor with his back against the tub. He wiped his mouth with some toilet paper before leaning back against the tub. He just stared off into space, the tears falling silently down his face as his eyebrows sank down. His head was tilted up and he didn’t have the energy or will to close his mouth, his jaw and lips just remained slack. 

He catapulted right from sorrow to feeling nothing at all. 

He was lost. Frozen. Unfeeling. 

He didn’t know how he was breathing because it sure as hell felt like all the oxygen in the room had been completely sucked out. He felt like he was weightless, yet weighed hundreds of pounds at the same time. Either way, he was immobile. 

The world was on his shoulders, pushing him down and crushing his body. His chest was tight and his mouth was bone dry. 

Time passed for he had no idea how long before there was a knock at the door. Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat and winced at how it burned because of his dry mouth. 

“Sam?” Dean’s semi-worried voice called through the door and it brought a fresh trail of tears pouring down Sam’s face, “You still in there?” 

It took everything Sam had to gather the poise and stability to respond. He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he got his breaths under control.

As he wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, he tried for a casual tone as he replied, “Uh… yeah.” 

Sam actually didn’t sound too off, and he would be impressed with himself if his world wasn’t shattering to pieces right now. But alas… 

“Everything okay?” Dean asked next, and Sam closed his eyes shut tight, feeling his stomach clench. 

He took another deep breath. Worrying Dean would serve him no good right now. But he couldn’t tell him the truth either. Not when Sam still couldn’t wrap his mind around this himself. He had no choice but to lie. 

“Yeah, fine.” He swallowed, “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” 

There was a pause on the other side of the door and Sam could hear his own heart beating in his chest. What if Dean already knew? Everything was coming down. Sam was still terrified to the raw nerve that Dean was going to walk away. Hate him. Be disgusted. Seek an abortion. Oh God… he might hate  _ that _ word more than the word ‘ _ pregnant’ _ .

“Okay, well,” Dean’s voice was like the lighthouse bringing Sam in from the cold sea, “I’m gonna pick up some pizza or something so hurry up and we’ll pick a movie, okay?” 

Sam knew what he was really asking. Under the pizza and movies he was actually inquiring about whether or not Sam was truly okay. When a Winchester said no to pizza and a movie, something was truly wrong. Dean was testing him. 

Luckily, he knew that was the case, so he just took another deep breath and answered as casually as possible, “Sounds like a plan.” 

And then he heard a single pound on the door, and he knew that Dean had given the wood one punch just to let Sam know he had heard him. Then there were footsteps that got quieter and quieter as Dean walked away. 

And Sam didn’t let the fresh tears he felt building up fall. He took a few more breaths and then stood up, flushing the toilet, which was still full of his own vomit, in the process. He then clutched onto the sink with white knuckles to keep himself up and steady as he peered into the mirror for the first time. 

He looked like hell. His hair was a mess, his eyes were glassy and red, and his cheeks were stained with tears. He was pale as a ghost. 

Sam swallowed down the fear and reached down for the pregnancy sticks, wrapping them in tissue to disguise them before throwing them both into the trash can and then throwing a few more tissues over them to cover them up. Tears burned at his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. 

As he brought his gaze back up to the mirror, he made a decision. 

Sam wasn’t going to tell Dean. Not yet. And there were a few reasons he sorted through. For one, he needed to wrap his head around this himself before he was able to share it with Dean. Two, he needed time to figure out how the hell this happened and where to go from here. Three, he needed to figure out how the hell to share the news anyway. Four, he needed to prepare himself for Dean’s reaction- if he decided to leave, Sam needed to get himself ready for that. 

So, he wouldn’t tell Dean yet. 

It took him five more minutes to get his crap together enough to leave the bathroom.

He walked out to the main room and saw both Dean and the car keys were gone. For a second, he felt his knees buckle and his world collapse again before he remembered Dean said he was getting pizza. 

Sam ran his hands over his face. Stop overthinking. It’ll all be fine.

He walked over to the bookshelves on autopilot and sorted through the movies they owned, settling on a few of Dean’s favorites. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to pay attention to a movie anyway, so he could at least make sure one of them enjoyed their night. Plus, if he picked a movie Dean liked, maybe it would distract his brother enough to not focus too much on Sam. 

Yeah. Good. That was a plan.

So, he queued up one of Dean’s favorite movies on the tv and went about fidgeting with the couch cushions so they were presentable. Then, he went to the closest bathroom and touched himself up, wiping at his eyes and trying his hardest to get rid of any evidence that he was crying. After a few more minutes of that, he heard the bunker door open and he took a deep breath. 

He could do this. 

And he did. The two of them got through a pizza and a half and were a third of the way through the movie before something shifted. 

Dean was laying half on top of Sam and half on the couch, head in the crook of Sam’s neck and hand resting on his pec. Sam was relaxed back against the couch, gently and absentmindedly playing with the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck. It had taken a while for Sam to push his thoughts away enough to act natural, but he had been a law student, afterall. His poker face was impeccable. 

It was when a scene came on the screen that showed a couple getting intimate and Dean responded by curling in closer to Sam and brushing his lips against his neck that Sam started thinking again. 

The fear, worry, and panic crept back in.

Dean might walk away from him because of this pregnancy. And Sam didn’t want to lose this. Lose them.

Of course Dean picked up on it right away. He leaned off of Sam enough to look him in the eyes and asked, “You sure you’re good?” 

“I’m great.” Sam looked down to meet Dean’s gaze and desperately tried to keep anything that would suggest otherwise off of his face. Then, he decided to prod a bit, “Why?” 

Dean shrugged and sighed, looking down before returning his gaze to Sam’s and admitting, “Nothing, I guess. You just seem kinda quiet.” 

Sam literally felt himself start to sweat. 

“Oh.” He swallowed, raising his brows a bit to come off surprised. He hated himself for lying, but knew it was his only choice for now, “I didn’t mean to, I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping great the past few days.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed in concern as he asked, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Sam shrugged back, trying to brush off Dean’s worries so he could go back to his own head, “Cause it’s not a big deal. I’ll catch up now that we’re back home. Lumpy motel mattresses ‘n all.” 

Dean didn’t look convinced in the least when he responded with a hesitant, “Okay.” 

Sam felt the need to reassure him, despite his own lies and secrecy, so he leaned up and pecked Dean’s lips before pulling away and announcing,“I’m fine, I promise.”

Dean nodded just barely and Sam let out a breath and forced himself to be upbeat. He pulled at Dean to get him down into his lap again and asked, even though he knew the answer, “So… which one is the actual bad guy again, I missed the stupid monologue.” 

They fell back into rhythm after that, and finished the movie without another conversation. Sam wasn’t paying attention really, just using Dean’s cues to react in the appropriate ways. He laughed when Dean laughed, groaned when he groaned, and remained quiet when he remained quiet. It was more of a puzzle than a relaxed movie watch. Sam was too damn caught up in his brain. 

That was until the credits started playing. 

And Dean flipped over and pinned Sam to the couch, bringing their lips together and proper making out with Sam. He ghosted his hands all over Sam’s hips and chest, and Sam would be lying if he said it didn’t make him forget for the moment. He relaxed into it, carefully derailing Dean’s hands whenever they got a little too close to his stomach. He didn’t think he was really showing yet, but he wasn’t certain enough to take that chance. 

“You ready to take this down the hall?” Dean asked as he came up for air after one particularly long kiss.

Sam thought about rejection. He probably shouldn’t be intimate with Dean when he was in such a bad place. When he was lying to him. When he was holding back such a massive secret. But… 

Dean’s lips were red and swollen from kissing, his pupils were dilated and midnight black, and his chest was heaving. He looked fucking gorgeous. When Sam was looking at him like that, how could he possibly say no? Nothing was wrong with having some fun, right? It might even take his mind off of everything. So… 

“Born ready.” He smiled, to which Dean rolled his eyes playfully in return. 

“Nerd.” He grumbled as he stood up and reached for Sam’s hand, pulling him up after him. 

Sam laughed a bit, feeling the ease seep back into him as he pushed his thoughts away. He teased against Dean’s lips, “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Dean playfully rolled his eyes and pecked Sam’s cheek once more before dragging Sam with him down the hallway. 

He could totally do this. Yeah, yeah… it was just Dean. He didn’t need to be scared of him. And it was really their bed, when he thought about it. Sam spent way more time in Dean’s room then he ever did in his own. It was basically their room at this point. Hell, it’d been years since Sam slept in his own room except for rare occasions. The familiarity might be nice. So, he took a deep breath and let Dean guide him to the door, squeezing his hand a little just to remind himself that everything was okay. In return, Dean swiped his thumb over Sam’s knuckles, clearly unaware of any deeper meaning. 

Sam was fine the rest of the walk. He was fine when they passed his room and strolled straight to Dean’s. He was even fine when Dean turned and gave him a quick peck on the lips as they reached the door. He could do this.

But then Dean’s hand landed on the doorknob and as his calloused fingers curled around the shining globe and started to twist, something in Sam broke. He pulled his hand out of Dean’s with no grace whatsoever and took a small step backwards, away from the doorway. 

Dean jerked his head back a bit in confusion and looked quickly between the door and his brother, clearly searching for a threat, before settling his gaze on Sam. 

“Everything okay?” Dean asked, eyebrows pulling together as he trailed his gaze over Sam curiously. 

Sam felt the guilt twist in his gut. What the hell was he supposed to say? He wanted so desperately to convince himself that everything was fine. If he could just convince himself of that, then surely he could convince Dean of it as well. But… the thought of laying in bed with his brother made him sick to his stomach right now. He couldn’t feel Dean’s arms wrapped around him, his lips on his neck, his comforting warmth… not when he was holding on to this secret. He was fucking pregnant.  _ Pregnant _ . And Dean had no idea. He couldn’t lay down and let all his walls down in Dean’s bed when he was keeping that to himself. It wasn’t right. Their bed was a place of trust, and love, and vulnerability. He couldn’t bring such a guilty and secretive heart into their mecca. He’d made the decision to hold off on telling Dean -to give himself time to process and figure out how the hell to tell his brother and how to keep himself together if Dean did what he suspected he might and decided to walk away- and now he had to reap the consequences. 

“I uhm…” Sam swallowed, looking down at the ground to avoid the heat of Dean’s fiery gaze. His voice was barely audible as he whispered, “I think I might sleep in my room tonight.” 

Sam felt his throat clog up when he looked up and saw the meaning of his words settle over Dean’s features. His shoulders dropped and the smile on his face faded away into a frown. His excited eyes turned sad and his voice was low and laced in hurt when he muttered, “Oh.”

Dean pulled his hand away from the doorknob and crossed his arms in front of himself. He took on a semi-protective stance as he leaned his shoulder against the closed door. Sam could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, the confusion and hurt painted all over his face. He looked down at the floor for a second and took a deep breath before bringing his gaze back up to Sam. It took a moment, but eventually Dean spoke, low and clearly trying to keep his voice steady. 

“Can I uh…” He cleared his throat, “Can I ask why?”

Sam was afraid of that. It was a damn fair question, but… what the hell was his answer supposed to be? He couldn’t tell Dean he didn’t want to sleep with him because he was lying. Because he was keeping a secret. Because he was pregnant. Because he was afraid Dean was going to leave him. He felt his heart start beating faster in his chest.

“It’s not a big deal.” He deflected, subconsciously running his teeth over his bottom lip. He didn’t meet his brother’s eyes.

Something in Dean shifted then. He straightened out his posture and stopped leaning on the door. He stepped forward a little and this time there was fear in his voice when he asked, “Sam, what’s going on?” 

Sam looked away and let out a deep breath. Everything would be so much easier if he could just tell his brother. But he couldn’t deal with that right now. He didn’t know if he could survive it. 

So, again he deflected, “Nothing’s going on, I just need some space I think.”

Dean’s eyebrows dropped then, the corners of his lips twisting into a frown. He swallowed again and inched a little closer to Sam. When he spoke again, the fear and worry in his voice shattered Sam’s heart.

“Is it something I did?” He pleaded like a child begging for forgiveness. His throat was choked up with emotions, “Because you know I’d never hurt you on purpose. If I did something to upset you, you gotta tell me about it so I can fix it.” 

Sam immediately reached out to grab Dean’s shoulder, soothing his thumb over his collarbone gently and telling him with force, “No, no, of course not. You didn’t do anything.”

_ It was me, _ he thought,  _ I’m the one that fucked up _ . 

“Well then, what?” Dean asked, exasperated. His voice was full of breath and desperation.

Sam just shook his head barely. He hated the situation he was in right now. He hated that he had to have this conversation. He hated everything about it. He just wanted to go back in time and tell Dean to put a fucking condom on. God, how could he have fucked everything up so bad?

He only realized he hadn’t replied to Dean when his brother spoke again, pulling at his forearm and reaching for the doorknob again, “Sammy, come on. Why don’t we go to bed, huh?”

Sam shook himself out of Dean’s grip again and denied, even though it broke his heart, “No, Dean.”

Any hope that had seeped back into Dean diminished once again. He sagged his head a bit and asked seriously, “Why not?”

And God, Sam reached his boiling point. He didn’t want to keep fighting with Dean. He didn’t want to keep feeling like a bad person. He didn’t want this thing inside him. All he wanted was Dean. He wanted his life back. His love back. But he  _ couldn’t  _ have it. And dammit, he needed to mourn. Alone.

“Sam.” Dean begged again and Sam felt the guilt and fear catapult into anger.

“Because I said so!” He yelled at Dean, bringing his hands up to run through his hair. Once the anger entered, it just kept coming and he just kept yelling, “I don’t want to sleep with you tonight, is that not clear?! Can you just back off!” 

He regretted the words the second they left his mouth, but he knew it was too late. Dean’s hurt and fearful expression shifted into a hard, stone-cold look that sent chills down Sam’s spine. He shut himself off. He was mad. He clenched his jaw once and turned to open the door, backing away from Sam. 

He sent a glare over his shoulder as he walked into his own room, and just before he closed the door, he turned back to Sam and harshly, sarcastically stated, “Hope you have good dreams, Sam.” 

And before Sam could get a word out, the door was slamming with a loud crash right in his face. 

He literally fell to his knees.

“Dean.” He whispered, more to himself than his brother.

It took several minutes to get himself up, but then he was walking to his room, closing the door shut as quietly as he could, and leaning against the closed door from the inside. He pulled a hand up to his stomach and pressed it over his still-flat belly as the tears started to fall. 

Silently, he slipped down the door until he was sitting on his butt with his back pressed to the door, arms wrapped around his knees which were pulled tight to his body and tears falling freely down his pale cheeks.

——————

Sam had never felt more nauseous in his life. 

And it wasn’t even the morning sickness. It was the secrecy, the lying, the agony of waiting. It was the wondering endlessly about Dean’s reaction to this situation, and it was nonstop overthinking about how to handle it if Dean walked away. It was all the crying, and the sleeping alone, and the guilt that ripped him apart down to his core. It was the frustration of not thinking of protection, and it was the idea of being pregnant and giving birth. It was his mind that was failing him. 

Okay, and the morning sickness.

It was a particularly bad bout the morning after he found out he was pregnant. The morning after Dean slammed the door in his face and he cried himself to sleep.

He was on his knees as he white knuckled the toilet, puking up nothing but bile and wiping away the tears that fell from his watery eyes. 

He was five minutes in when there was a knock on the door.

“Sam? You in there?” Dean’s rough morning voice called, still closed off and invulnerable. Sam had hurt him, afterall.

He wiped his mouth with his bare forearm and swallowed down the acid burning his throat. With a few deep breaths, he managed to sound like he wasn’t dying, “Yeah… give me a minute, then it’s all yours.”

It took a second but then Dean was replying, “Not what I meant… are you okay?” 

Sam rolled his eyes.  _ Clearly  _ he was not okay. God, could Dean not take a hint? He loved the man down to the last fiber of his soul, but  _ come on.  _ There is a thing called being way too overbearing. 

“Perfect.” He chirped, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

But then another bout of nausea crawled up his throat and he tried his damn hardest to swallow it down, but he simply couldn’t stop the gagging. He hauled himself back over the toilet and grasped at the porcelain as he dry heaved over the bowl, squinting his eyes shut and cursing internally.

“Sam?!” Dean’s voice lost all defensiveness and was filled with pure worry now. He knocked hard against the wood and yelled, “Open the door!” 

Sam shook his head as he spit into the toilet, wiping his mouth again and grumbling, “No, I’m fine. It’s fine. Just give me a minute.” 

And then he was gagging again, whimpering out loud as the acid burned at his throat. He wished to any God out there that he could just stop fucking puking when Dean was right on the other side of the door. He wasn’t even upset anymore, he was angry. Couldn’t just one thing work out in his favor? One. Damn. Thing.

“Sam if you don’t open the freaking door, I’m gonna knock it down!” Dean yelled after Sam made a particularly loud gagging sound.

And bless his heart, Dean sounded worried to the bone, but Sam was in so much pain, both physically and mentally, and all he wanted on this earth was to be left the hell alone. He couldn’t control the volume of his voice when he yelled.

“Just give me a damn minute, Dean! Get off my fucking back!” 

There was a short pause and Sam felt his heart seize before Dean yelled back just as loud, and just as angrily, “Fine!” 

Little did Sam know that that would be the most emotive interaction they would have for a long time. 

Another two weeks went by and his and Dean’s relationship was more rocky than it had been in years. 

Once Dean realized Sam wasn’t going to tell him what was wrong, he started turning a cold shoulder. They were both keeping each other on business terms. Sam was still sleeping in his own room, and not in Dean’s room with him. Dean still sent him worried glances now and again, but he didn’t address any of his concerns out loud. 

Dean had gone hunting three times over the last two weeks, but Sam never went with him. Granted, Dean never directly asked, but Sam knew if he tagged along, Dean wouldn’t mind one bit. It was his choice. 

Only once Dean asked him to go with him to a vampire nest a few blocks away, but Sam just said he was feeling nauseous and wasn’t up for a hunt. It was technically true. Dean didn’t have to know it was morning sickness. 

Sam guessed he was about three months along, what with when the morning sickness showed up and the last time he and Dean had sex minus a condom. Which meant the first trimester was basically over. He knew the clock was ticking away on how much time he had left to gather the courage to tell Dean. His abs were all but gone and there was the smallest bump on his abdomen, but it wasn’t noticeable if he just wore his baggier clothing. However. he was going to start truly showing sooner rather than later, and there would be no hiding the pregnancy from Dean after that.

It was killing Sam inside to know he was the cause of all of their fighting. It was killing him to know he was causing Dean pain. All of it was awful. He hated himself for everything that was going to shit because of his choices. His mistake.

It was on a random Thursday night, three weeks after he’d found out he was pregnant, when Sam decided something had to change. Even if he couldn’t tell Dean everything, he missed his brother, and he was willing to put a band-aid on the issue temporarily. Until he figured out how the hell to handle his situation, and how the hell he would recover if Dean walked away. 

Dean had come in from a werewolf hunt with a gash across his shoulder, dragging his duffle behind him and a blood-stained knife in his armpit. He grunted as he climbed down the stairs into the main room, where Sam was sitting with his laptop open and research on his screen. He looked up and felt his heart seize at the sight of Dean trying his best to not make eye contact with Sam. But then Sam’s gaze shifted to the blood gathering on his sleeve and he decided now was as good of a time as any to mend things. At least temporarily. 

“Hey.” He addressed his brother. 

Dean froze in his steps, turning to look at Sam with a surprised look on his face. Like Sam said before, they were barely talking to each other these days. 

“Uh… hi.” Dean answered, looking not unlike a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Put those down and come over here.” Sam gestured to the duffle bag and knife with his free hand and stood up. He walked over to the bookshelves beside the table and pulled out the first aid kit stashed on the second row. 

“I don’t need first aid.” Dean commented, not budging from his position, and there was a venom back in his voice now that startled Sam, “I’m just gonna shower and then we can go our separate ways, just like always.” 

Sam sighed and looked down. He knew that defensiveness wasn’t the way to go. He was in the wrong. He knew he was. He couldn’t pretend that that wasn’t the case. Sam was the liar, the secret-keeper, the pregnant one. And he knew he still needed time, but he also knew that he couldn’t keep pushing Dean away. 

“I know.” He admitted almost shyly, biting at the inside of his cheek as he fiddled with a pad of gauze nervously between his fingers, “I have been cold and reserved. I have been pushing you away. And I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Sam took a deep breath and looked up to meet Dean’s gaze as he said the last part, “And I’m sorry.” 

Dean visibly let go of his anger. His tense body sagged down as his shoulders dropped. The steely expression on his face faded into one of something else entirely. The only way Sam could explain it was that Dean opened himself up. His walls came down. 

He felt his heartbeat quicken as Dean started walking towards him, head down, dropping the duffle bag and knife on the ground on his way over. His stance was still defensive and on edge, and he didn’t meet Sam’s eyes directly when he walked over. However, he did shrug his jacket and shirt off and then sat down in the chair to Sam’s right, giving his brother nonverbal permission to take care of his shoulder.

Sam let out a deep, stabilizing breath and swallowed nervously before walking up to Dean and starting to inspect his wound. He slid his fingers along the edge, narrowing his eyes as he thought about the best course of action. The cut was about three inches long and it was raised up from the skin. It looked red and angry, but not necessarily deep enough for stitches. So, Sam picked up a gauze and dipped it in water before going about wiping the blood away. 

About two minutes into cleaning the wound, Dean asked in a sigh, “What happened, man?” 

Sam was distracted, pulling the gauze away and reaching into the kit for wound dressing. He answered, “Doesn’t look too bad. Probably a quarter of an inch deep. I don’t think you need stitches.” 

Dean rolled his head a bit in frustration before clarifying with a more or less steady voice, “Not with the wound, Sam, what happened with us? I mean, one day we’re fine, and then the next…” 

And Sam knew. He knew that. One day they  _ were _ fine. But two positive pink lines changed everything.  _ Everything _ . But this was so not fair to Dean. At all.

Sam bit his lip as he whispered in response, “Yeah. I know.”

Sam then winced a bit in sympathy as he poured a stream of alcohol over the wound to disinfect. Dean hissed a bit, but quickly got over it. Then Sam went about dressing the injury.

“So?” Dean asked after a moment, and it took a second for Sam to remember what he was talking about. 

But then, oh yeah… 

“So, I wasn’t lying when I said I was tired. I’ve been nauseous too. It’s hard to want to get in bed with you when I feel gross.” He fibbed, “And instead of addressing it, I pushed you away. I’m sorry.”

He felt his stomach twist as he lied to Dean. It felt horrible. Part of him wanted to just spill the truth right then, but he knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t ready for that conversation. 

Dean was quiet for a few moments that felt much longer than they actually lasted. When he spoke, his voice was laced in disbelief.

“You’ve seriously been not sleeping with me for the past three weeks because you didn’t feel good?” It sounded like he was calling Sam out on his shit at first, but then something in his face softened and he added, “Sam, that could be something serious. Like, actual-doctor-serious.” 

And yup, Sam was going to hell. Or, back to hell. 

He was lying and miserable and yet still, Dean was worried about him. 

Sam shook it off. He finished bandaging up Dean’s shoulder and put away the first aid kit before lying yet again, “No, that’s my point. I think it’s starting to let up a bit, now.” 

Dean turned to him with surprise on his face as he stood up and tugged his tee shirt back on, “Really?” 

Sam bit his lip to keep his emotions under control. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest. 

“Yeah.” He managed with a smile he hoped looked a lot more natural than it felt, “I was gonna tell you when you got back.”

Dean looked suspicious, but more than anything, he looked relieved “So… we’re good, then?” 

Sam could read his brother better than anyone else in this world. He knew that Dean knew he wasn’t okay. He was well aware that his brother was just desperate to bury the hatchet. He wanted to move on. He didn’t want to fight anymore. 

Sam knew all of that because he felt the exact same way. So, he took the chance Dean was giving him with open arms. 

“We’re good.” He agreed.

A happy, albeit somewhat apprehensive, smile appeared on Dean’s face and then he was closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Sam’s, humming contently into the kiss. Sam let out a relieved sound against Dean’s lips and melted against his brother, just letting himself go for the first time in months. It felt damn good.

He moaned low in his throat when Dean dropped his lips to his jaw and started sucking at his pulse point, pulling away from Sam until he was behind him, trailing kisses the entire way.

“Okay, well… it’s only ten.” Dean whispered as he closed his arms around Sam’s waist from behind and tucked his face into his brother’s neck, “And your ass looks fantastic in those jeans. You thinking what I’m thinking?” 

Sam laughed a little as Dean’s stubble brushed against the back of his neck, but quickly his sense creeped back into him. He cleared his throat and thought about how he could reject Dean’s offer without sounding alarms. It wasn’t like him to decline sex, not under normal circumstances. But… his body hurt everywhere and he felt self-conscious about his stomach even if he wasn’t truly showing yet. Above all, he didn’t want to be intimate with Dean when he knew he was lying to him. When they were having sex was when they were most vulnerable with eachother. All of the guards come down, and it’s just about love. And Sam just couldn’t look his brother in the eyes and make love to him while keeping such a giant secret. It would be violating their intimacy in such a vial way. A betrayal. It wasn’t right. 

Sam decided humor was the way to go. There had been way too much sadness and anger surrounding them to add more. So, he carefully smirked and let out a bit of a laugh that kept the mood light and the suspicion away as he teased, “Maybe another night, Mister whiskey dick.”

Dean actually scoffed like he was truly offended. He reached out with his left hand and grabbed Sam’s hand in his, keeping his other hand on Sam’s hip. He slowly guided Sam’s open hand to his own waist and placed his palm right over his crotch, pressing it against him and whining low in his throat at the pressure. Sam felt his own dick twitch in interest when he felt exactly how hard his brother was beneath his palm.

“That feel like whiskey dick to you, Sammy?” Dean whispered right up against Sam’s earlobe, teasing. He pressed his hips harder into Sam’s hand on instinct and kissed at his pulse point before adding with a sultry voice, “Come to bed with me, baby. It’s been too long, you know you want to.” 

God, Sam wanted to give in. He wanted to give in so fucking bad. His dick was throbbing and his mind was racing and all he could think about was how good it would feel to be up against Dean, grinding, rubbing, touching… he tilted his head to the side to give Dean more access to the skin he was kissing on pure reflex. Dean hummed in appreciation and clearly took it as permission, because the next second he was reaching upwards with his right hand, and through Sam’s thin tee shirt, took one of Sam’s nipples between two fingers and tweaked it tight. 

Sam gasped because  _ FUCK, that hurt _ . His nipples were freaking sensitive now,  _ goddammit _ ! Regardless, it was the push he needed to throw himself back into reality. He had to stop this before they got too far down the road to turn back. He rapidly pulled his hand away from Dean’s crotch and stepped away from his brother’s embrace, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. 

“Shit, too rough? Did I hurt you?!” Dean asked immediately, voice laced in worry. He chased after Sam and grabbed him by the shoulders to check him over, eyes wide. 

Sam instantly shook Dean’s hands off and assured him with a tired and somewhat guilty sigh, “No, no. You didn’t hurt me. I just don’t want to go there tonight.” 

All of the worry his brother was expressing quickly shifted into something else. Sam watched the hurt immediately cascade over Dean’s face -his smile dropping, shoulders falling, eyebrows furrowing, and eyes turning glassy- and rushed to alleviate it.

“I’m just not in the mood, okay? I’m tired and even though I’m better than before, I’m still not feeling great. Just…” He sighed, feeling the guilt eating away at him as he pulled a hand up to rub over his face, “Not tonight.” 

He furrowed his brows together in worry as he brought his gaze up to meet Dean’s, afraid of the emotion he’d see there. To his surprise, there looked to be more anger than hurt. 

“Yeah,” Dean started and Sam felt his body tense at his sharp tone of voice, “That’s what you said last time. And the time before that.” 

Sam swallowed anxiously and tightened his arms around himself. His voice was small when he responded, “You know I haven’t been feeling great. It was true then, and it’s true now.” 

Dean scoffed and adjusted his stance to put his weight more on his right foot, crossing his arms over his chest. Sam hated the steely look on his face now, eyes devoid of any emotion other than frustration and borderline disdain. 

“You say that like it’s been a couple of days. Do you even know how long it’s been since we last had sex?” He asked, eyebrows raising in a way that dared Sam to answer the question. 

When Sam just ducked his head slightly and remained silent, Dean answered his own question, “It’s been nineteen days, Sam. It’s been three weeks since the last time we so much as removed an item of clothing from each other, and you're really gonna pretend that it’s because you're tired?! Sam, we don’t even sleep in the same room anymore!”

Sam felt the burning of tears behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Sure, three weeks without sex didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but to him and Dean? That was like three years. They were fucking jackrabbits when it came to eachother. 

Sam turned his head to the side, looking away from Dean in an effort to collect himself. He pushed his tongue into his cheek and swallowed back all the guilt and fear. He couldn’t tell Dean now. Not like this. But what the hell else was he supposed to say? He sympathized with Dean, he truly did. Sam knew this wasn’t fair to him. 

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” Dean pleaded, the anger shifting into desperation as he took a small step towards Sam, “Stop pretending.  _ Please. _ ”

And that was when it dawned on Sam. This was killing him. Undoubtedly. He was barely sleeping, he was so overridden with guilt and fear he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight, and his entire body ached. 

What he hadn’t realized was that it was killing Dean too. 

He had been pushing Dean away, leaving him to sleep alone with no explanation, and taking out his frustration on him. Sam felt sick. He brought his hands up to his face and wiped his palms over his eyes as the guilt washed over him. He felt the lump grow in his throat and he stumbled backwards until he fell into one of the chairs by the table, no longer able to hold his own weight. He heard more than saw Dean hesitantly follow.

“I just… I need some more time.” He whispered once Dean was back in earshot. It broke him to ask for delayance. Dean deserved so much more than this. So much more than  _ him _ .

Dean sagged down once again, gravity seemingly pushing on him harder than before. He shook his head slightly and asked like it was a hail Mary, “For what? Sam, you haven’t told me  _ anything _ .” 

And Sam felt his body tense without his permission. That struck a nerve because he  _ knew _ it was true. He was just expecting Dean to leave him alone when he hadn’t given him any reason to. He was shutting Dean out with no explanation as to why. It was an awful thing to do and he hated himself for it. But he didn’t have a choice. 

Sam had to come to terms with his pregnancy himself, and he had to figure out what he would do if Dean reacted in a way that he didn’t want. He had to think this out thoroughly before just dumping this at Dean’s feet haphazardly. He had to emotionally prepare himself for the worst case scenario, and he had to honestly take a look at himself and figure out the best course of action from here. He couldn’t do any of that if Dean knew. He just needed time- no matter how unfair it was. 

“Look,” He cleared his throat, looking up at Dean and hating the sorrow on his face, “I know this isn’t fair to you. I know that. Can you please just… just trust that I will tell you when I can.” 

Dean sighed and turned his back to Sam, running a hand over his face. Sam ducked his head down. He knew this was a big ask. He was imploring Dean to have complete blind faith in him, and the consequence was more isolation from each other. 

When Dean turned back to him, he had a newfound focus. He must’ve had quite the conversation with himself when he was turned around. 

He took a breath and knelt down in front of Sam, reaching for his hand and wrapping his own fingers around it.

“Okay. Clearly there is something going on with you, and you don’t want to tell me about it, and that’s okay. But you can’t keep shutting me out. We’re supposed to be in this together, right? So, why don’t you come with me to bed and I can make you forget about whatever it is you’re worrying about for a while?” He raised a brow and his lips turned upward in a smirk. 

And okay, yeah, that mad Sam a little bit angry. 

“You’re seriously still trying to get me to have sex with you?” He accused, pulling his hand out of Dean’s and standing up as he crossed his arms, “Does it I look like I want to have sex right now?!” 

Dean jerked back a little at the mini outburst but stood his ground regardless, keeping eye contact with Sam as he stood up, “Well maybe not now, but after a few minutes of teasing…” 

Sam scoffed and his eyes went wide, “I can’t believe you right now.”

“What’s wrong with using sex as a way to feel better? Last time I checked, that’s what it’s designed for!” Dean pushed back, not backing down. 

“No, I can’t believe I’m clearly upset and trying not to mess everything up between us, and all  _ you _ care about is getting laid!” He screamed and this time Dean didn’t push back. 

The room fell eerily silent. For a few seconds, possibly minutes, it stayed that way. But then Dean clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor. He shook his head minutely and laughed a little to himself. When he looked back up again, there was something in his eyes Sam was unfamiliar with. 

Dean parted his lips like he was going to speak, and Sam shrunk into himself a little in an effort to protect himself from the backlash he assumed was coming. But then… right as Dean was about to speak, he stopped. He closed his mouth, gave Sam one final glance, and turned away. He walked out of the main room and then disappeared into the hallway. Sam stayed frozen where he was, feeling more hollow and alone than ever before.

It took several minutes for Sam to gather enough control over his body to get himself together and walk back to his room. Every step was painful, and the tears were burning in his eyes. 

When he reached out for his doorknob, he stopped before he could twist it. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against the unfinished wood as a wave of dizziness settled over him. 

It all hit him at once. 

He was ruining everything. He was a bomb, slowly exploding, and all of the shrapnel was landing in Dean.

He was so afraid of losing Dean that he was the one pushing him away. It was a sick sort of irony. In the process of keeping secrets, he made Dean feel isolated. Sam became the thing he was scared of the most. 

Nothing was going to change, he realized. Nothing. 

No matter if he told Dean now, or tomorrow, or in three months. His reaction was going to be the same. And Sam would never be prepared for it. 

The reason he kept holding off on telling Dean was that he wanted to prepare himself in case Dean walked away. He wanted to be ready to do this alone. To not react poorly if that was Dean’s choice, because honestly, he understood it. 

It was just not until now that he realized he would never, ever be ready for that. He would never be ready for Dean to walk away. Ever. 

So he took a deep breath. This had to end. He had to rip the band-aid off and deal with the consequences. There was no other option. Not anymore.

Tears silently fell down his face as he peeled himself away from the door and started walking down the hall towards Dean’s room. His feet were moving on their own, and his mind was racing a hundred miles a minute. He felt unearthly, weighed down, and sick to his stomach. 

When he reached Dean’s room, he saw light was seeping out from the bottom of the door. Good. 

He reached up to wipe the tears away and took a few deep, stabilizing breaths to collect his thoughts. 

He was Sam fucking Winchester. He beat the devil himself. He kicked an angel out of his head. He saved the world. This was nothing. He could do it. 

The momentum got ahead of his brain and he was swinging open the door without another thought. 

His eyes widened as he realized what his body had done without his permission, and he saw a similar surprised expression on Dean’s face.

His brother was sitting up in bed, his handgun in his lap. It wasn’t loaded, of course, he was just fiddling with it and messing with the trigger. It was a nervous tick. 

But the second Sam walked in, his hands froze. 

“Hey.” Sam whispered, swallowing deeply and closing the door behind him. 

Dean closed his mouth and pushed his tongue out against his cheek, clearly thinking. He carefully put his gun back together and placed it down on the night table by his bed. 

When he looked back up at Sam, he simply whispered back, “Hey.”

Sam dragged his upper lip in between his teeth, his heart still hammering away in his chest and thundering in his ears. The tension between them was thick and tangible, like smoke. Sam needed to do something to diffuse it. Create himself the space to break the news.

“You know, you should really have another pillow under that one, you’re gonna strain your neck sleeping that way.” He said, attempting to break the ice. It was true, Dean never normally slept with only one pillow. 

Dean clenched his jaw and crossed his arms a bit. His voice was firm and borderline accusatory as he responded, “Well, if you’d been sleeping in here for the last few weeks, then you’d know that my other pillow started collectin’ mold so I had to toss it. But that’s not the case, now, is it?” 

Sam closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in. This was only getting harder but the second.

But he also knew it was never going to be easy. So he looked down and collected himself before shifting his gaze back up to meet Dean’s. 

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly, trying to remain defensive but open at the same time, “Yeah, I know.” 

Dean raised a brow and nodded just barely, clearly waiting for Sam to elaborate. He had nothing to say. Sam was the one with the explaining to do. 

So, he stepped forward and sat down on the edge of Dean’s bed, folding his hands in his lap and staring down at his interlocked fingers, “Look, Dean, you were right.”

Dean didn’t budge. He knew he was on the higher ground. So, he just pushed, “About?” 

Sam sighed and elaborated, still looking down at his lap, “I haven’t been completely forthright with you. There uh… there is something wrong. With me. And I’ve been putting it off because I was scared, but we need to talk about it.” 

And something in his voice or words struck a cord with Dean because in the next few seconds, Dean was sitting up from his bed and scooting down the mattress until he was next to Sam. He ducked his head a bit to catch Sam’s eye and asked honestly and worriedly, “Are you okay?” 

“That sort of depends on how these next few minutes go.” Sam choked on a humorless laugh, the emotions crawling up his throat.

Dean swallowed audibly and then reached across to grab Sam’s hand in his. The anger had seeped away now, and there was nothing but fear and concern now. Sam could read Dean like a book, but Dean could read Sam equally well. Of course he could tell something was seriously wrong. 

“Look man, whatever’s going on, you can tell me.” Dean said softly. There was still something defensive in his voice, but it was melting away with the seconds that passed, “You know that, right?” 

“It’s a lot harder than it sounds.” Sam tilted his head and looked up to Dean. He knew his eyes were glassy and wet with unshed tears, and the look that appeared on Dean’s face when he realized it too was heartbreaking. 

His eyebrows drew in tight together and he swiped his thumb over Sam’s knuckles in comfort. He kept his gaze frozen on Sam’s as he soothed, “Take your time, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” 

Sam couldn’t help but laugh. A tear cut it’s way down his face at the same time he literally chuckled. He couldn’t stop the sound- the reaction.

Didn’t Dean know that that was exactly what he was afraid of?

“What’s so funny?” Dean asked, concern and confusion in his voice as he reached up with his thumb to wipe the tear off of Sam’s face. 

“Nothing, it’s just… you can’t promise that.” He shrugged like it was obvious, “You can’t say that you’re not going anywhere. After I tell you what I have to tell you… you may want to leave. Hell, I couldn’t blame you if you did.”

Sam broke eye contact with Dean to look back down at their intertwined hands. The realization that this could be the last time they were close like this set in, and he felt the world get a little heavier.

Before he could get too far down the rabbit hole of self doubt, Dean grabbed Sam’s chin in his hand and angled his face until they were making eye contact again. 

There was a fierce determination in his voice and eyes as he announced, “Sam, I’m never gonna leave you. Ever. Whatever you’re holding back- it’s not gonna change anything between us, or how I feel about you.” 

Sam immediately started crying more. The tears started coming down for real as a flicker of hope erupted in his chest. He tried to hold it back. He didn’t want to have hope. It was too dangerous. 

“Now, it’s killing me to see this eating away at you so bad. Let me shoulder some of the burden. Please.” Dean spoke again as he wiped at Sam’s tears. His own eyes were glassy now. It was like seeing Sam’s tears set off his own. They were basically a joint soul.

Sam closed his eyes and took a few seconds to gather the courage to say what needed to be said. He let go of Dean’s hand and did something he hadn’t done once in the weeks since he found out he was pregnant. He placed a hand on his stomach. He thought just maybe it would give him strength, this once. 

In one smooth motion, he opened his eyes, brought his gaze to Dean’s, and let out in a single breath, “Okay, well, there is no easy way to say it, so I’m just gonna say it. Dean, I’m pregnant.” 

And it felt so paradoxically horrible and amazing to say it outloud that he couldn’t stop himself from repeating it upon exhale, “I’m pregnant.”

The world stood still. Time stopped. So did Sam’s heart. Dean’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. Everything came crashing down. Fear, panic, guilt, loss, worry.

He rushed to speak, removing eye contact from Dean as he rambled on, “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve told you when I first took the test. Hell, even before that, I should’ve told you when I started getting symptoms, but I was so scared, and confused, and in my own head about it all. And I’m sorry for leaving you in the dark, and all the fighting, and the yelling. I had no right to be mad at you. But I felt so guilty, I mean this is all my fault! I should’ve been more careful, been more strict about protection. I didn’t think… and now this is all happening, and if you want to leave, I get it. You can go, and be free of this, of me, and this burden. I have no choice, but you can go. You don’t have to deal with any of this, it wasn’t your choice and-”

“Sam!” Dean yelled, shaking his shoulder to get his attention, “Will you shut up for a second!” 

Sam felt his heart sink to his stomach. Oh God, Dean was reacting badly. He was mad. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want him. He didn’t-

Clearly the panic showed in his face, because Dean reached up to grip his shoulder again. 

“Wait, no, no!” He shouted, shaking his head and bringing a hand up to pinch his nose, “Dammit, that came out wrong! Just… give me a second to think.” 

Sam had to literally think of a happy place to keep himself calm as Dean sat there, head buried in his hands, quiet as ever. He curled his fingers just the tiniest bit on his stomach, focusing on the slight curve there. He breathed out as his eyes burned with tears. After a few long moments, Dean lowered his hands from his face and raised his head. 

He stared at Sam with watery eyes and repeated with a surprising steady voice, “You’re pregnant.” 

Sam felt his throat seize, but despite the fear choking him up, he managed to confirm, “Yeah.” 

Dean let out an audible breath and brought his hands back up to his head, swiping his fingers through his hair.

“Holy shit.” He announced, looking at Sam with wide eyes. Then his volume increased as he spoke again, “I mean… fuck!” 

Sam just bit down on his lip again, his volume getting inversely softer as he whispered, “Yeah.”

“How the hell…” Dean looked down, the panic and confusion all over his face, “What the fuck are we gonna do?!” 

Sam felt like he was suffocating. With every new curse that spilled out of Dean’s mouth, it got harder and harder to breathe. He was becoming light headed and everything in him was telling him to get away. So, he stood up and backed away a bit.

“Why don’t you think about it for a little while.” He suggested to Dean, walking to the door on instinct because he was all but hollow on the inside. 

Dean stood up after Sam, asking with a crack in his voice, “Where are you going?!” 

“I’m giving you time to think.” Sam answered as he blinked away the tears, “But I can’t sit here and wait while you do it. I’ll be in my room when you're ready.” 

With that he disappeared down the hallway, still resting his hand on his abdomen and wiping at the tears falling down his cheeks.


	2. Making up and making out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reels in the wake of Sam’s announcement. He confronts his brother and they discuss the consequences of his pregnancy. Makeup sex ensues.

Their life was over. 

That’s all Dean could think. 

Their life was over.

Hunting, killing, dying, coming back… it all had to end here. 

Dean walked out of his bedroom into the en suite bathroom and clutched at the sink with white knuckles. He brought his gaze up to look at himself in the mirror and fought back the tears. God… Sam was  _ pregnant _ .

At first he was sad. His life had the same purpose for the past three or four decades. He was a hunter. He saved people, he hunted things. He was good at what he did. It was what he was  _ meant  _ to do. He and Sam mattered to this world. They saved it, more than once. And now he was going to have to throw it all away? 

Then he was mad. He thought about how long Sam had known about this, and how long he had kept it to himself. How he had been pushing Dean away, making him feel isolated. 

But then he looked down at his own hands and felt the guilt hit him over the head. The empathy. The sorrow. 

_ Sammy. _

His brother was heartbroken, it was all over his face. He found out about this weeks ago, and he didn’t tell Dean about it for a reason. Oh God, for weeks Dean had been pissed at Sam for pushing him away, when in reality… Sam was terrified. He was scared and sad and grieving his freedom. He had no idea how Dean would react, and he shut himself off. Any semblance of anger Dean had in his system flooded away. It was all replaced by sympathy and hurt. Hurt that he wasn’t able to help Sam for weeks while he was struggling. 

And then there was a new feeling. Something lighter. 

Dean looked back at himself in the mirror and breathed out as a thought he’d blocked out for years entered his brain. Truth was, part of him  _ did _ want this. 

He had this recurring dream the past two years, it showed up every few months or so. It was a normal day and they were in the bunker. Except, instead of cleaning weapons or planning a hunt, Dean was sitting in the la-z-boy, beer in hand, and he was watching Sam play with a baby on the floor. Sam was sprawled out on his stomach, balancing on his forearms as he laughed at their child, who was throwing legos and giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

Dean never told Sam about the dream. It wasn’t the way they lived. There was no way it was ever going to happen. 

Except now… 

Dean choked on a little laugh as he looked down again and imagined his dream becoming real. Sammy being a father to his baby. Being parents together. Full-on domesticity. 

And then his stomach twisted. He might have ruined it. 

Shit, shit…  _ shit! _

Sam had finally told him about this and all he did was yell at him. He gave him no reassurance. Nothing to hold onto. Sam probably thought he was mad at him, or that he didn’t want this, or that it was his fault. 

The thought of Sam in pain over his actions was the fuel that got Dean moving. He left the bathroom and his room altogether, walking down the hallway. His heart stopped when he reached Sam’s room. The door was wide open and the lights were off. He wasn’t in there. Didn’t he say he would be?

Dean’s heartbeat picked up speed and he rushed down the hall, checking the bathrooms. When he realized Sam wasn’t in any of them, he felt the panic set in. Where is he? Did Sam leave? Did Dean really fuck everything up this bad?

It was when he got upstairs that he finally calmed down a bit. The bunker door was left open a crack, and when Dean approached it, he could see Sam’s silhouette. His brother was standing on the little patio they had -and never used- a few yards off from the bunker, leaning on one of the railings with his back to Dean and his eyes trained on the endless strip of road that lay ahead. Dean felt his heart rate calm at the sight of Sam safe and well within reach.He took a deep breath and then turned around and ran back downstairs to grab a blanket before heading out the door himself. 

Dean hesitated for a second or two before stepping up and gently slinging the blanket over Sam’s shoulders, straightening out the edges with his fingers and wrapping his brother tight in the fleece, “Here.”

Sam didn’t even blink in appreciation, he just kept staring straight ahead, dried tear stains on his face and eyes focused on the horizon.

“It’s freezing out here, I thought you were going to your room.” Dean added, feeling the fast and heavy thumping of his heart in his chest but ignoring it in favor of tending to his brother. 

The anxiety he felt was thick and almost tangible, like a dense smoke contaminating the clean air. He could grab it in his palm and squeeze his fingers around it tight. But Sam was in front of him, and he was in pain. And not the broken leg or stab wound type of pain- that was easier to fix- no, this was the type of pain that lingered. It existed much deeper than physical wounds. Embedded in the soul. Dean was part of the reason Sam was experiencing that right now, and that thought made his stomach do flips. 

Sam was quiet when he spoke, and his gaze didn’t shift from the line where the earth met the sky, “I did. At first.” 

His language was blunt, sheltered. He was shutting himself off. Dean knew him well enough by now to know that this -this short, terse diction- was Sam’s way of showing the world that he was fine. It was a way to protect himself. Shield any real emotions from the outside. Dean hated that he felt the need to use it with him. 

“And then?” Dean pushed, not sure what else to say. His heart was still hammering in his chest. 

He watched as Sam sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his jaw before letting it drop loose and opening his eyes once again. He was the picture perfect image of dread and fear. Dean understood. The idea of a baby - _ their  _ baby- was terrifying. They never discussed being fathers. They never even brought up the idea, and they were certainly not in a line of work that was safe to raise a child in. Dean was afraid to the raw nerve that he would be a worse father than John- that he would ruin this kid. Sammy’s kid. And he was scared of pregnancy, and birth, and parenting… all the pain Sam would have to endure. All the trying times. All the money. But… then he looked at Sam and all he could think was  _ I love this man with all of my damn heart. _ And he would be damn lucky to raise a kid with him. And that kid would be damn lucky to have Sam as a father. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam’s whisper brought Dean out of his thoughts and catapulted him to the real world. 

He tilted his head and brought a shaky hand up to Sam’s forearm, placing his palm firmly over it and spreading his fingers to grip his arm in support. He was using that voice again. That language. He was protecting himself.

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” Dean acknowledged, because truthfully, it didn’t. They had much bigger issues, “I’m sorry I didn’t react the way I should have. I know this is hard for you. And I’m ready to talk about this. We  _ need _ to talk about this. Maturely.” 

For a second, Dean swore he saw a chink in Sam’s armor. His lips dipped into a frown and his eyes averted for the first time, shifting from the sky to where his hands were folded over the railing. 

“Just rip the band-aid off, Dean.” 

Okay, that was not what Dean expected to hear. He jerked his head back a bit in surprise, trying desperately to wrack his brain and figure out what the hell that meant. Rip the bandaid off? He came up empty. 

“What do you mean?” He inquired, knitting his eyebrows together and forgoing pride in favor of retrieving an actual answer. He couldn’t fake knowing what Sam meant. Not in this situation. Not now. He couldn’t afford a mix up.

“Rip the band-aid off.” Sam repeated, slightly louder. He shook his arm out of Dean’s grip and turned to face his brother head on for the first time. His eyes were glassy and wet with unshed tears, lips pulled in a thin line, “Just tell me you’re leaving. Tell me you don’t want any part of this. Tell me you never wanted more than sex. Tell me I was around, and I was easy. Tell me-”

Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. With every word he felt the vice in his chest squeeze a little tighter. Sam truly thought that Dean was going to abandon him. It was written all over his face. The way his lips and eyes were pulled tight. The way he spoke. Sam believed that Dean didn’t want this. He truly convinced himself that Dean was going to leave. Dean felt his heart seizing and all he knew was that he had to stop the rush of words coming from his brother’s mouth because they  _ hurt _ . No words would come, but he had to do something, so without thinking any further he closed the space between them and pressed his lips to his brother’s. 

He heard Sam’s surprised gasp and felt as he let a breath go against his mouth. Dean relaxed his shoulders a bit when Sam naturally returned the kiss, pressing his lips back against Dean’s and parting them to let his lower lip slip between his brother’s. Dean wanted to fall wholeheartedly into it and never let go. His tongue was hot and begging for entrance, but he kept it at bay. This wasn’t about him. Or sex. Or kissing. This was about the life growing inside of Sam. About the fact that Sam thought he was going to leave. So, Dean pulled away, stopping only inches away from Sam’s face. 

“Listen to me.” He instructed softly yet firmly as he brought a hand up to cup Sam’s cheek, swiping his thumb over his stubbly jaw, “I am not leaving you. Ever.” 

Sam shook his head like the words meant nothing- just platitudes, “Dean, you have a right to. I don’t want you to stay out of any obligation.”

“Obligation?” Sam felt that word like a bullet to his heart, “My God, Sammy, you got it all wrong.”

He was basically pleading with Sam at this point, but he had to  _ make _ him understand. 

“I want this. I want you.” He stated, and then he swallowed nervously as he made a somewhat risky move. He reached right up under Sam’s shirt and planted his palm flatly on Sam’s stomach as he added, “I want…”

He couldn’t find another word to use because he got so caught up in the roundness under his hand. Dean was used to feeling hard abs under his palm, but now… God, it was like it didn’t truly set in that Sam was pregnant until right then. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Sam’s shaky, yet firm voice broke Dean out of the trance.

“Sam, I wouldn’t lie about this.” Dean felt like he was pleading once again. He took his hand off of Sam’s stomach and placed it on his cheek again, “Believe me. Please.”

His eyes were glassy and his brows were furrowed tight. He felt pure desperation rocketing through him. He wanted Sam to understand. He needed him to. 

A shadow passed over Sam’s face. He looked scared, and closed down, and disbelieving, but there was something else blossoming on his face now too. Something… hopeful.

The silence lingered for a few more moments before Sam turned to Dean fully and looked him in the eyes. 

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and asked quietly, skeptically, “You’re serious?”

Dean let out a sigh, relieved that he was at least getting through. But there was still so much apprehension in Sam’s voice and mannerisms and that just wasn’t okay. All Dean wanted was to make the bad feelings go away for his brother. The desperation returned tenfold. 

“Am I serious? Sam, I love you. Our lives are not ideal by any means, but…” He swallowed, a small smile creeping up onto his lips as he added honestly, “I think we can do this. I think I  _ want _ to do this.” 

Some of Sam’s guards went down and Dean was relieved for a moment before another thought crashed into him. He had been ignorant. This whole time he -they- made it about him. Whether or not  _ Dean _ was okay with this. Whether or not  _ Dean _ wanted the kid. Whether or not  _ Dean _ would walk away. But what about Sam? What if… what if Sam didn’t want this? What if Dean had read the situation all wrong?

“Question is…” He swallowed as he voiced his concern out loud, hesitantly, “Do you?” 

Sam tilted his head and let out an audible breath as he turned his gaze away again, “I thought about that for a while. I don’t know that I have an answer. I mean, I love you, Dean, I do. And I will love this child with everything in me, but… we aren’t cut out to be parents. And I…”

He stopped talking when the emotions got caught in his throat. The alarms went off in Dean’s head and he immediately pushed, “What?”

Sam closed his eyes and stated so slowly it was almost robotic, “I’m scared that the kid -our kid- will be like me.” 

Dean knit his eyebrows together.

“Well we got different ideas then, Sammy boy, because that kinda sounds like the best case scenario to me.” He announced and then found himself smiling again as he imagined it, “With the dimples and the puppy dog eyes…” 

Sam didn’t so much as blink as he shut Dean down, “That’s not what I mean.”

The smile faded off of Dean’s face when he realized this was a segway into a more serious conversation. Whatever Sam was worried about… it was legitimate. And he was visibly concerned by it. 

So, he wiped the humor off of his face and prompted quietly, “What do you mean?”

It took Sam a moment to speak, and Dean stood there patiently waiting, watching as each new emotion painted over his features. 

“Demon blood. It’s in my system.” He started and Dean lowered his head immediately, feeling the dread fill him as Sam spoke, “It’s in my body. What if I pass it down? What if I  _ infect _ your child with my disease?”

Oh, and Dean did  _ not _ like that. He did not like Sam calling it ‘his’ child. No, no, no. This was theirs. And the fear Sam was expressing, while probably valid, broke Dean’s heart. 

“Our child, Sam. Not mine.” He reassured, reaching out to place his hand over Sam’s, “And that won’t happen.”

Sam shook his head, immediately rejecting, “You can’t know that for sure.”

“But I do know it.” Dean quickly rebutted, like it was easy.

“No.” Sam argued back, slightly louder, “No, you d-” 

“Sam. You’re not listening to me.” Dean cut him off before he could keep denying him. This had to be stopped, “That won’t happen. You have demon blood in you, I know. I know better than anyone. But look at you now. You beat it. And you only gave in when you were manipulated into doing it. So, even if this kid gets some of that in him… we’ll deal with it. Just like we dealt with it when it was you. That kid is gonna be all Winchester. You don’t get much tougher than that.” 

Sam turned back to look at Dean with watery eyes and when he asked the next question, Dean felt his already broken heart shatter a little more.

“You really want to stay?” He said quietly.

The fact that it was so hard for Sam to believe that Dean wanted this was not sitting right with Dean. He didn’t like Sam feeling so doubtful, so unwanted. He hated it. 

“Leaving never crossed my mind.” He assured with as much firmness and determination as possible. 

And that clearly had an almost opposite effect because Sam ducked his head down and guiltily apologized, “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed it would have… I just…”

“You were scared. You don’t have to apologize, Sam, I get it.” He smiled sadly, swiping his thumb over Sam’s knuckles, “Hell, situation reversed, I’d be damn terrified too. But I promise you I’m in it for the long haul. We’re gonna do this.”

Sam raised his eyebrows a bit and repeated as he looked at Dean with a vulnerable, yet secure gaze, “We’re gonna do this.” 

Dean nodded and then wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist to pull him close. He kissed his clothed shoulder just barely before asking softly, “Are you okay?” 

Sam let out a shaky breath that was all the answer Dean needed, but nonetheless he elaborated, “I still need time to just wrap my head around all of this, you know? But uh… yeah, better now that you know, at least. It was killing me, not telling you.” 

Dean felt his throat clog up. It still deeply gnawed at him that Sam went through all of this crap alone. But… then he realized he had none of the details. And damn, he had a lot of questions. 

“How long have you known?” Was the first one. 

Sam ducked his head like he was ashamed before answering softly, “Uh… three weeks or so. I found out the night we came back from the ghoul hunt.” 

And maybe Dean was supposed to be angry. Maybe he should be mad that Sam hid away the fact that he was pregnant with their child. Maybe he should be mad that Sam had shut him out for weeks, took his frustration out on him, and made him sleep alone. Maybe. But… a baby is such a major fucking bombshell. Dean can’t even imagine how horrifying it was for Sam to see that positive test. All of the guilt, the fear, the worry. He couldn’t blame Sam one bit for withholding the info for a little while. People cope in their own ways.

“Do you know how far along you are?” He asked nervously, swallowing deep as he tentatively watched Sam. He wasn’t sure where the line was on what questions he could or couldn’t ask, and the last thing he wanted to do was push Sam away. 

Sam let out an audible breath in response and brought his head up a bit to respond, “Maybe three months. But that’s just a guess based on when we’ve… you know. Last month we were good about protection, and before that we were on seperate hunts for over a week, so… it had to be sometime before that. Plus, if it was much earlier, I’d be showing more by now. And I didn’t start getting morning sickness until a few days before I took the test, and that normally happens around five or six weeks, and it’s been three weeks since then, so that puts me around three months. But morning sickness could not start until nine weeks for some people, so it might be closer to four months, I don’t know.” 

Dean squeezed Sam’s hand. The way he was ranting on and tripping over his words was a dead giveaway that he was nervous. Whenever Sam got anxious, he got rambly. 

“You are nervous as all hell, aren’t you little brother?” He smiled a little, addressing the fact.

Sam laughed a bit in response, but it wasn’t humorous as much as it was nervous, “That obvious?”

Dean shrugged and pursed his lips a bit, “Only to me.”

Sam looked at Dean with the most reassuring and loving gaze he’d seen in weeks. It made his heart grow a size. His brother was so beautiful, so amazing. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening for them. A future. 

But Sam had been feeling awful for so long. He couldn’t jump into excited mode when Sam was still hurting. 

“I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this around for three weeks.” Dean sighed, the horror filling him. That was a long time to be filled with guilt, dread, and doubt.

Sam swallowed and started, “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, no.” Dean cut him off. There was no reason in this word Sam should be apologizing right now, “I’m not blaming you, I just… I just feel bad. Knowing you were struggling for so long without me being able to help.” 

Sam’s expression softened a bit before he reassured Dean, “That was my choice.”

“I know.” Dean acknowledged, though it didn’t make it any easier. 

Silence filled the air between them and Dean combed through their conversation in his head. Something hit him suddenly and he narrowed his eyes.

“Wait, you said symptoms, plural. Not just morning sickness.” He told Sam, eyeing him carefully. “What else?” 

Sam pushed his lips to one side and looked to be deep in thought for a moment before he answered, “More general stuff. Just got tired really easily, body aches. I figured it was just the flu or something at first. But then I started getting nauseous in the morning and I put two and two together.”

Dean nodded. That made sense. He slowly slid the puzzle pieces together. 

“So you being sick. You not sleeping in the same room as me. It was all because of this. Because you’re… pregnant.” 

God, that was a weird word to say.

Sam just nodded and answered quietly, like he was ashamed, “Yeah.”

And at first Dean was sympathetic. He was sad that Sam was sad. Sad that his brother had been hurting not just mentally, but physically for so long, and then… Fuck.

“And you went hunting!” He exploded as soon as the thought popped into his head.

That was bad. Really bad. Sam shouldn’t be anywhere near monsters or even guns for that matter when he was carrying a  _ child _ . Jesus Christ, Dean thought he was smarter than that! 

“I only went hunting before I knew!” Sam jerked out of Dean’s arm and raised his hands in mock surrender, “I stopped once I found out, I promise. It just worked out that I was getting morning sickness so I could use that to get out of hunting. At least until I figured out how to tell you the truth.” 

Dean felt his body calm down. His shoulders relaxed and he let out a breath. It took him a minute to get himself back to a good place. 

“Good.” He breathed out, relieved, “That’s good.”

But then he turned back to Sam and pointed a commanding finger as he asserted, “No more hunting from now on.” 

Sam nodded, keeping his hands up in the air. He easily responded, “And I agree.” 

Dean nodded and swallowed. Good, no danger. At least at their own hands. But he had more questions.

“So… when did you buy the test?” 

And the exasperated and almost annoyed look on Sam’s face after he posed that question made him feel a bit self conscious. 

“Look, Dean…” Sam looked like he was treading on thin ice, being careful how he phrased his words, “I am going to answer all of your questions, I promise. But, can we just… postpone them for a little bit. It’s been kind of a long, overwhelming day.”

“No kidding.” Dean laughed a bit before settling down and turning to Sam with sincerity in his eyes and voice as he added, “Just know that I am by your side through all of it. You’re never gonna be alone. Not even for a second.”

Sam visibly melted and then he was leaning forward to press his lips to Dean’s briefly. When he pulled away, he whispered wholeheartedly, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Dean smiled before planting his hand back on Sam’s abdomen, “Both of you.”

And that was all it took for Sam to let out another nervous laugh. 

“Holy shit.” He announced as he placed his own hand over Dean’s on his stomach, “I’m pregnant.” 

Dean laughed out loud. Sam had known for weeks, but it was like it was only hitting him now. His wide eyes and growing smile were adorable and Dean felt his heart expand as he looked at him.

“I knocked you up, Sammy.” He joked, though there was a streak of pride and something almost like arousal underlying that sentiment.

Sam laughed and groaned almost simultaneously as he teased, “Oh wow, that’s never gonna go away.” 

Dean laughed again. 

They stood there for a few more minutes, but when a breeze came and both of them visibly shivered as the cold air hit, Dean soothed his hand over Sam’s shoulder.

“Come on,” He spoke softly, “let’s go inside before you give our unborn child frostbite.” 

His brother nodded and then they were slowly making their way inside. Sam subconsciously tightened the blanket around his shoulders and Dean kept a firm grip on his waist. They reached the hallway, and right as they approached Sam’s door, he felt Sam slid out of his arms. He could feel himself immediately tense as he realized that for the past three weeks, this is where they parted. The fear set in. Maybe things hadn’t really gone back to normal. Why else would Sam pause here?

But then his brother quickly turned to him and gave him a peck on the lips, and Dean felt himself calm down.

“I’m just gonna put my shoes away and grab a shirt quick.” Sam told Dean before pulling away from him.

Dean couldn’t believe it. The happiness he felt deep in his gut was intangible. He couldn’t help it; Right before Sam entered his room, Dean grabbed his bicep and Sam took the cue to turn around and look at his brother. 

“Wait… you mean you're coming back to my room?” He asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice, but he knew he was likely visibly beaming with it. 

“Yeah.” Sam answered easily, “Something wrong?”

Dean shook his head, a smile creeping onto his face as his eyes went excited. “No, no, not at all.” 

Sam smiled a little to himself, deciding not to answer Dean. Instead, he shook his arm out of Dean’s grasp and walked into his room. His brother stood in the doorway, watching him as he ditched his shoes and changed out of his flannel into a tee shirt. Sam smugly ignored Dean’s eyes glazing over his exposed torso as he changed.

When he came back to the door and reached for Dean’s hand, his brother’s grin was intoxicating. He squeezed Sam’s hand back and then they were walking down the hallway to Dean’s room. 

Dean couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. He couldn’t stop squeezing Sam’s hand. He couldn’t stop kissing his brother’s cheek. 

Everything was sliding back into place and he was so happy and excited he could scream. 

When they reached Dean’s room, he dragged Sam in and closed the door behind them. Immediately, he started stripping until he was left in only boxers. His shirt and pants landed on the floor by his shoes and socks in a matter of seconds. Sam was doing the same, slipping out of his pants and socks, but pausing when his fingers landed on the hem of his tee shirt. He froze there, and Dean was about to ask why when Sam stopped him by pressing their lips together again. 

Sam slept with his shirt off every single night. Dean knew that better than anybody. They always slept naked back to naked chest, or naked chest to naked chest. They loved the warmth and intimacy of skin on skin. So why Sam was keeping his shirt on now was a mystery to Dean.

A mystery that quickly faded away into the tongue pushing its way into his mouth. Any questions left Dean’s mind as he became focused solely on kissing his brother.

They stumbled backwards together until they were falling onto the bed, Sam pinned beneath Dean. The older Winchester remained conscious enough to keep himself hovering above Sam, not wanting to put any pressure on Sam’s abdomen just in case. He hummed into the kiss when Sam started tugging at his hair. After a few moments, they parted to catch their breath, and Dean fell off to the side of Sam, still touching his shoulder gingerly and eyeing him lovingly.

All they could hear for a few passing moments were their own laboring breaths. 

When Sam broke the silence, it was in a breathless question, “How on earth are we gonna do this? I mean, we’re hunters, Dean.”

Dean knew what to say immediately. Yet, he took silent acknowledgement in the fact that that question should have been much harder to answer. 

“We don’t have to be.” He said instead, and it was so easy he almost surprised himself.

Sam was clearly just as, if not more, surprised at the answer because he jerked his head back and turned to look at Dean like he had five heads. 

“What?” He inquired, almost amused.

Dean stuck by his answer. He shrugged and repeated just as easily as before, “We don’t have to be.”

Sam shook his head and narrowed his brows a bit. He laughed a little, “Shut up.”

Dean raised a brow and defended yet again, “I’m serious.” 

Sam fell back against the bed, but didn’t say anything, so Dean took the chance to elaborate.

“We’ve been saving the world for over a decade now, isn’t it some other person’s turn?” He asked rhetorically, placing a palm on Sam’s stomach before adding, “We deserve this.” 

Sam shook his head and said almost sadly, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

And that made a little flame flare in Dean’s chest because who the hell cared how it worked. He and Sam deserved a break, they deserved a life. And this was their first, and quite possibly their only, chance to get out with a valid excuse.

“Well screw how it works. This is our decision.” He told Sam honestly, swiping his thumb over the small bump of Sam’s stomach, “We’ve been saving people our whole lives, isn’t it time to be a little selfish?”

Sam slid his lips over to one side, looking down for a second before whispering, “I don’t know, man.”

“Well I do.” Dean shrugged, speaking as honestly as he was physically able, “I’m done with the risk. We cannot bring this child into a world where we are hunters. There will be a target on its head the second it’s born. We can’t risk that.” 

And that seemed to eliminate any hesitancy from Sam, just like Dean figured it would. His brother nodded and asked quietly, “So what do we do?”

Dean puffed his bottom lip out as he suggested jokingly, “We baby-proof the bunker.”

“Come on.” Sam rolled his eyes in a tease, slapping Dean half heartedly on the bicep.

Dean laughed a bit before seriously considering it and then he started to legitimately elaborate, hand still resting on Sam’s stomach with no intention of moving anytime soon. 

“Alright, alright. Well, we tell Jody, Garth, Donna… everyone who we are in regular contact with. You can help them with research or whatever you wanna do, the bunker is full of books and it would be selfish to not be a resource for other hunters, but as for going out in the field?” He looked Sam dead in the eyes and in his best scary-older-brother voice, he declared, “You’re done.”

Sam didn’t acknowledge that comment. He had already agreed. The response he came up with actually surprised Dean a bit.

“What about you?”

Dean raised his brows a bit and breathed out. What  _ about  _ him? Truth was, Dean was so caught up being worried and protective over Sam that he hadn’t really thought about what a future would look like in the absence of hunting for himself. But now that he did… 

“Maybe I’m done too.” He breathed out, “Truth is, Sammy, that kid is the first reason I’ve had in a long time to not want to go out blaze of glory. I want to be there for it. For you.” 

Dean thought for sure Sam would start tearing up, chick flick moments be damned, but instead he surprised Dean by just eyeing him with a grateful and almost possessive gaze and simply stating, “Good.”

Dean smiled just the tiniest bit and leaned down and forward to kiss Sam’s forehead once before repeating, “Good.”

When Dean pulled back, he let his face hover over Sam’s, just drinking in the sight of the man he loved. It took a few seconds before Sam whispered, not breaking eye contact, “You really think we can do this?”

“Hell yeah, I do.” Dean nodded easily, and then a smile crept it’s way onto his face as he realized why. He couldn’t stop the happiness from seeping into his voice and expression as he explained to Sam, “You know why? Because even those neither one of us has belief in ourselves to do this, for some godforsaken reason you believe in me. And I believe in  _ you _ with everything in me. We’re a goddamn mess, but I think the faith we have in each other will pull us through.”

Sam just shook his head in something akin to awe… and there were the watery eyes Dean had been waiting for. Before Dean could lean down to kiss him, Sam was raising his head to kiss Dean. For a moment, Dean laughed against his lips, not surprised at all that they had the same idea. But then Sam’s tongue was poking at his bottom lip, and Dean was moaning low as he let it inside. It had been three fucking weeks since they had been close like this, and it made Dean’s eyes water up a bit. He  _ missed _ this feeling. This closeness. This pure, unadulterated love. He hummed happily as Sam’s hands came up to hold either side of his face. Dean left one of his on Sam’s stomach, and brought the other up to the bed beside Sam’s head to keep himself balanced. He felt himself melting into Sam’s mouth, losing his soul in his brother’s. This was his favorite place on earth. The way they danced and held each other with such unwavering love and familiarity. There was no place in the world he would rather be than wrapped up in Sam’s arms with his lips pressed tight to his brother’s. 

“God, I missed you.” He practically whimpered when they parted to catch their breath, gently running his fingers through Sam’s hair and staring deeply into his eyes.

Sam smiled softly as he swiped his thumb over Dean’s jawline, still holding his head in his palms, “I’ve been right here, Dean.” 

Dean smiled sadly, “Yeah, but not like this. I missed holding you close, kissing you,” Then his smile turned a little less sad and a little more suggestive as he slid his hand down from Sam’s stomach to his groin and palmed his soft dick, “Touching you.”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat and he had to swallow down the wave of heat that flowed quickly through his body to speak teasingly, “Easy there, I’m already pregnant.” 

“Mhmm,” Dean hummed, still palming Sam as he swept his gaze over his little brother’s body, “How could I forget?”

Sam laughed for a second, but then there was a shadow of something else that fell over his face. His eyebrows dropped and his smile faded away. Dean recognized the expression as one of doubt. 

“You’re serious?” Sam asked quietly, honestly. He looked disbelieving as he pushed, “You’re really okay with all of this?” 

Dean let out a deep breath. He hated that Sam was still unsure. Still doubting. He wanted Sam to know that he had nothing in this world to worry about. So, he took his hand off of Sam’s pants and brought it up to his cheek. He leveraged Sam’s head until he was looking at him and then started speaking.

“Okay. Look me in the eyes.” He waited until the eye contact was there before continuing firmly and with the utmost sincerity, “Sammy, I am the happiest I have been in a long time. I want you and I want this kid. I am not okay with all of this, I am ecstatic about it. Do you understand me?” 

It took a moment, but then Sam nodded slowly. Dean let out a relieved sigh and then he was leaning down again to kiss Sam. This time, he took control. He set the pace, and Sam followed easily. Like he was made for it. Hands roamed and moans made themselves heard. 

When Dean started working his way from Sam’s mouth to his jaw, and then down to his neck… Sam fluttered his eyes closed and acknowledged, “Okay, yeah, I missed this too.” 

Dean smiled into Sam’s pulse point as he sucked and kissed there. He was palming at Sam’s crotch again and when Sam shifted to push up into his hand a little, Dean smirked and whispered right in his ear, “You feeling it, babe?” 

“Maybe.” Sam said breathlessly as he reached down and tugged at Dean’s hair, “You?”

And Dean’s initial reaction was  _ ‘duh!’ _ , but for some reason his brain thought that was the time to remind him of their earlier conversation. He felt the sexy mood seep out of him as some of Sam’s words returned to his mind. 

“Uh…” He swallowed, a lump suddenly gathering in his throat and choking him up, “Actually, I think it might be better for us to hold off tonight.” 

“Oh.” Sam raised his brows in surprise. He swallowed and was quick to reassure Dean, “I mean, that’s fine.”

“I just…” Dean sighed, thinking about the words that flew out of Sam’s mouth earlier.

_ I’m clearly upset and all you care about is getting laid! _

“I don’t want you to think that this is all I care about.” He whispered genuinely, a little shyness and a lot of regret lacing his tone.

Sam sighed, “Dean-”

“No, you were right.” Dean cut off, “I shouldn’t have tried to get in your pants when you were clearly upset. That was a douche move.” 

Sam leaned up to kiss his cheek once before leveraging himself back down and addressing Dean, “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either. I know you were only trying to help.”

Dean raised a brow, wondering where to go from there, “So…”

“So, I think you’re right.” Sam stated easily, “Maybe we should hold off for tonight. Nothing is wrong, I just think I would rather sleep with your arms around me right now. I don’t sleep as well without you, you know.”

Dean smiled just barely as his heart seized at those words, “Me neither.” 

And then he was swallowing down all of his emotions and flinging himself back down flat on the mattress. He readjusted the pillow under his head and then reached for Sam, pulling him close to his chest.

“Okay.” He sighed as Sam positioned himself, his head finding Dean’s chest and staying there, his hand palm down on his pec, “Sleep it is.” 

Sam smiled softly to himself, “Goodnight, Dean.” 

Dean reached to turn off the lamp and as the darkness encompassed them, he whispered back, “Night, Sammy.” 

——————

The next morning Sam woke up to a pair of lips kissing and sucking at his collarbone. A content smile naturally crept it’s way onto his face as he fluttered his eyes open and brought a hand up to Dean’s cheek. He soothed his thumb over his brother’s jaw and Dean just hummed a bit in acknowledgment. 

“Get up here.” He whispered with his raspy morning voice, which apparently sent alerts off in Dean’s brain, because his brother immediately retreated from his shoulder and came up to Sam’s face.

Sam grabbed his head with both hands and pulled him down until their lips met. Dean let out a breath against Sam’s mouth as he relaxed into the kiss, melting into Sam as their lips parted and slotted against each other. Sam interlocked his fingers on the back of Dean’s head, locking him in. 

“Love waking up with you.” Dean mumbled almost inaudibly against Sam’s mouth, not taking a break from kissing as he spoke, so the words were muddled.

Sam laughed a bit, but it was more out of endearment than humor. He continued kissing at Dean’s lips, and then he was trailing down a bit to nip at his jaw. Dean threw his head back on pure instinct to enable access, and when Sam latched onto his pulse point, he moaned out loud and threw a leg over Sam’s body, straddling him. He balanced himself on his forearms to keep himself hovering above Sam, still fearful of putting any pressure on his stomach. But the new position made their dicks land right on top of each other and both of them moaned in unison at the friction.

“Waited long enough.” Sam whispered, huffing into Dean’s mouth as he moved his hips a bit to keep the friction going, “Want you.” 

Dean nodded eagerly, gasping a bit when the head of his dick caught on Sam’s, the heat spreading from his groin up his spine. He started lowering himself, slipping down from Sam’s lips to his neck. As he pulled away from sucking and nipping at Sam’s neck, he readjusted himself and walked backwards onto his knees until he was looking down at Sam. He hungrily took in the sight of Sam’s lust-blown eyes and practically growled at the possessiveness that overtook him.

“I want this off.” He reached down to grab onto the hem of Sam’s tee shirt, voice dripping sex and desperation. 

Sam nodded, raising his upper body and arms enough to let Dean slip it off. Before Dean was able to look down, though, Sam grabbed his chin to keep his gaze on his face. 

“Wait, wait.” He swallowed.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, narrowing his brows. He was still short of breath, looking into Sam’s eyes with concern.

“Uhm… just.” He breathed out, licking his lips for a second to gather the courage, “I look different. My stomach isn’t as… muscular. It’s bigger. If you want to put the shirt back on, that’s cool. You don’t have to look at-”

“Sam.” Dean cut off, his voice patient and almost amused, “You’re insecurity is adorable, but trust me, you look amazing.” 

Sam just shook his head, “How could you know that, you haven’t even looked?”

Dean leaned down to peck his lips before elaborating, “Because you always look amazing to me.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and scoffed a bit at the cliche comment, figuring it was superficial, but Dean quickly cut him off again.

“Hey,” He called softly, waiting for Sam to make eye contact again before seriously acknowledging, “You do. And you're not losing muscle, Sam, you’re growing a baby. Changes in your body are normal. You know that and I know that. So, shut up and let me take care of you, okay?” 

Sam pushed his lips to the side and looked to be thinking for a moment, but after a prolonged pause, he nodded minutely and encouraged, “Yeah, okay.” 

Dean nodded and then slid his gaze down Sam’s body. When his focus landed on Sam’s stomach and he saw the swell there, the breath caught in his throat. Sam was right, his abs were all but gone and his stomach was certainly inflated. It wasn’t much, but it was noticeable for sure. Dean felt his dick harden in his boxers. Something about not just knowing he fucked a baby into his brother, but seeing physical evidence of it… Fuck, it was hot. He took a deep breath and then he was slipping down Sam’s body with hungry eyes. 

Right as he reached for the waistband of Sam’s boxer briefs, his brother whispered firmly, “Just be careful with my stomach.” 

Dean pressed a kiss to his hip bone and then raised up to look Sam in the eyes. He reached for his hand and squeezed it tight as he whispered sincerely, “Don’t worry, okay? I got you.” 

Sam smiled softly and squeezed Dean’s hand back as he whispered confidently and lovingly, “I know.”

Dean smiled and then he flung himself up to kiss Sam again, leaving his boxer briefs unattended for now. His brother just couldn’t look at him like that and expect him to stay away. No chance. 

Sam hummed into the kiss and once again tangled his fingers in Dean’s hair, holding him close. Their tongues danced over each other and Dean brought his hips down to rub against Sam again, causing both of them to groan. 

He eventually strayed from Sam’s mouth and started licking over his pecs. He kissed at his collarbones and then went about doing one of his favorite things. He enveloped one of Sam’s dark red nipples with his mouth and licked over it with a moan. For a few moments it was fine, and Sam was arching in pleasure. Dean closed his eyes and really got into it.

But then, right as he switched from licking at his nipple to sucking, Sam’s entire body flinched and he yelled out in pain, “Ow, shit!” 

Dean got off of him in record time, eyes wide and panic in his voice as he questioned, “What’s wrong?!” 

Sam seemed to calm down a bit since Dean left his nipple behind, but there was still a remnant of pain on his face. But there was something else too. A little blush in his cheeks that suggested embarrassment.

“My uh…you know.” Sam licked his lips and gestured with a hand to his pecs, “I’m sensitive there now.” 

Dean raised his brows as it clicked in his brain. He was slightly surprised, but felt quite guilty as well. He’d caused Sam pain, afterall.

“Oh.” Was all he could manage, looking between Sam’s nipples and his face.

“Yeah.” Sam swallowed. Then he jumped to justify, “It’s fine, we can still do stuff, just…” 

“I’ll avoid that area.” Dean filled in, eager to keep Sam far away from pain. 

“Probably for the best.” Sam nodded, “Thanks.” 

Dean pecked his lips again and then muttered as he returned to Sam’s lower body, “Yeah, yeah. This baby better be worth it. I love sucking your tits.” 

Sam just laughed, but the sound was quickly choked off into a moan when Dean started sucking at the divot of his hip bone. He reached down and grabbed a fistfull of Dean’s hair, holding him in place. His eyes fluttered closed and he gave into the feeling, letting the tension in his body go. He felt safe with Dean’s strong arms bracketed around his torso and mouth on his skin. 

Dean reached for the waistband of Sam’s briefs and yanked them down. He felt heat pool in his gut as he took in the sight of Sam’s rock hard, deeply flushed member. It had been far, far too fucking long. 

He couldn’t stop himself from taking it down his throat in one smooth go. It was too hot, and available, and the dry spell they had was way too long.  _ Fuck _ and the noise Sam made. It was half a moan and half a cry. 

“Dean...” Sam dropped a hand onto Dean’s head, and it rested there, heavy and flexing sporadically against his scalp. 

Dean looked up. Sam’s head was thrown back and his eyes were closed, mouth open as he exhaled toward the sky. He was beautiful. Dean stretched his hands up to run over Sam’s chest, watching and feeling as it heaved with arousal, then he brought his hands to Sam’s waist, the pressure making Sam gasp.

“I’ve got you,” Dean responded soothingly before licking up Sam’s cock. He swirled around the head, taking in the sharp tang of precome and dipping his tongue into the slit. He kissed down the side, tracing a large vein all the way to the base, then slowly lapped along the crease of Sam’s thigh.

Then he sunk his mouth over Sam’s cock entirely once again. He slowly pushed forward, taking him in deeper and deeper with each move of his head. He concentrated on the way Sam’s cock felt in his throat. The way it filled him up. Silky. Hard. Warm.

“Fuck.” Sam murmured brokenly. He was turned on already just from grinding against Dean. Light caught his eyes and the glint made affection flood Dean’s chest. The person moaning above him was his everything. This was sex and love and tenderness and lust. 

Dean slowed his movement and swallowed around Sam’s cock, once, twice. The tightness caused Sam to thrust forward with an “ahhhh!”

Dean glanced up as he licked along the hard ridge at the head. Sam looked down at him, hair falling messily over his forehead. Dean loved this. He loved everything about having Sam’s cock in his mouth. Listening to Sam’s sounds above him. It was so powerful and giving; uncontrolled and yet contained. 

Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s scalp, thrusting his hips forward so his length rubbed along Dean’s cheek. Dean smiled, shook himself out of his thoughts, and continued bobbing Sam’s cock in his mouth, messy and wet, all tongue and saliva. He sucked hard on the head and Sam let out a desperate gasp. He did it again. And again, moving down the shaft with each hard suck.

“Huuuuhh… yessss.” Sam let out a breathy moan. This time the feeling was immediately overwhelming for Dean. His mouth stuffed full, nose buried near Sam’s abdomen. Sam’s sounds escalating.

He brought both hands around to Sam’s ass and pulled his hips toward him, moving in time with his mouth. He lost himself to the rhythm of it and focused only on the cock in his throat. The way it nudged along his tongue and the roof of his mouth. The spit leaking onto his chin. 

“Oh yes, oh yes, oh baby yes.” Sam babbled as he thrusted weakly. Dean moved his mouth faster. He sucked deeper. Squeezed Sam’s ass tighter. Flexed his tongue up and down. He floated along with nothing but Sam’s warm skin and increasingly frantic cries keeping him grounded to reality. 

He worked the fingers of his left hand into the crease of Sam’s ass and grabbed on hard, running his fingertips up and down. Sam’s thrusts began to speed up. His moans were a constant stream of noises. “Nghhh, yes, yes, uh, uh…”

Their moans, their movements, it all began to blend together. Everything was getting wet. Sam’s cock was covered in saliva and Dean’s chin was soaked. Their coordination slipped into disarray as Sam floated along, weightless and overtaken by the buzzy feeling of his oncoming release.

Dean could feel when Sam got a little too close. His body tensed a bit too tight and Sam quickly grabbed Dean’s shoulder and shoved him off. His voice was airy and exasperated as he told him, “Stop.” 

Dean immediately retreated. Say what you want about the Winchester brothers, but they listen to each other.

Dean wouldn’t even let Sam catch his breath before he was shifting his fingers to push perfectly at his hole, causing Sam to gasp. 

“Want my tongue, baby?” Dean purred, nuzzling his nose along Sam’s inner thigh.

He nodded his head frantically into the pillow it had fallen on to, moaning high and pitiful, “Please, Dean, please I’m dyin’ here.”

“Oh, well, we can’t have that, can we?” Dean teased, and then he was pushing Sam’s thighs apart forcefully, settling between them like he belonged there. Sam felt like he was high, everything slow and soft around the edges, so sensitive, and Dean humming softly at the sight of the most intimate part of Sam’s body. He grabbed onto Sam’s thighs and pushed them back against his chest. 

“Goddammit, Sammy, look at you,” Dean whispered in awe, pressing wet kisses directly over his hole and fuck, if just a little kiss felt good—Sam’s a goner. Dean ran his hands up the back of his thighs as he murmured, “Hold yourself open for me, Sam baby, there you go, spread yourself wide, lemme see.”

Sam moaned hungrily, he adored Dean telling him what to do. He eagerly held the back of his knees with the crook of his elbows, keeping himself open and back for the other man.

With an unsatiated moan, Dean planted his hands on either side of Sam’s ass, holding him open, and dove in with Sam’s favorite—broad circles with the flat of his tongue. Dean loves to use his lips, make them wet and slippery, slide them around with his tongue, kissing and sucking at his rim. It left Sam breathless, his moans high and breathy as he ran his fingers through brown silky hair. He couldn’t help tugging at the locks and pumping his hips up- not when it felt like this . It was so good, better than good, and Sam couldn’t help the small moans that left his mouth. Dean’s tongue was the perfect mix of gentle and forceful, and he knew exactly when and where to push and where to be soft and smooth. 

“Dean, oh god, Dean feels so good, your mouth feels so good,” he whimpered, unable to tear his eyes away from Dean’s working mouth, and he moaned deep and dirty when Dean looked up at him and—

God, Dean pointed his tongue and began to fuck him with it, pulling back to flutter his tongue around the entirety of his hole and it’s too much, it’s just too much. Dean’s moaning at the sight of Sam crumbling under his ministrations and Sam can feel the vibrations of his noises on the sensitive skin of his taint and he quivers with the electricity. After a few more long drags of his tongue, Dean pulled away, leaving Sam whining at the loss. His brother simply shushed him before picking up the bottle of lube on the nightstand and waving it in the air.

When Sam saw the container in his hand he groaned approvingly. It felt like his entire body was vibrating, like he was trying to think and see and move through molasses but pulsing with hectic energy. He needed Dean to fuck him, needed him to finger-fuck him, needed to come on Dean’s cock, needed it all, needed to—

Mid-thought, one of Dean’s large fingers slid home with a burn so intense it made Sam stop breathing altogether. He felt Dean kiss and drop kitten licks around his finger and the first choking breath he sucked in was a moan that racked his entire body. His hips moved on their own accord, softly rolling and pressing down, and he couldn’t help but clench down on Dean’s finger.

“Yeah, baby you need it bad, don’t you?” Dean asked in a low hungry voice, sinking his finger in and out of Sam as he spoke. 

Sam could barely breathe, could barely do anything aside from holding himself open and lolling his head back and forth on the pillow. He found his voice enough to cry, “Fuck, yeah, Dean, want you to fill me up, f-fuck please…” 

Dean didn’t even try to ease him into it, didn’t even give him a warning- just slid a second digit in alongside the first with a filthy wet noise to match the filthy dark moan he let out into Sam’s taint. Sam could feel how wet he was, a combination of lube and Dean’s spit, and it made him feel both dirty and incredible. His cheeks flushed at the noises Dean’s fingers made as they slipped in and out of his hole, and he couldn’t help but smile softly into the low groan he let out through his teeth. He just felt so full and loved. He was as relaxed as he could be folded in half and open, his body was melting into the mattress. When Dean’s thick fingers curled inwards and lightly stroked his prostate he felt tears spring to his eyes.

“There you are.” Dean cooed triumphantly as he nailed the prostate with his fingers, a shiteating grin taking over his face. It was always the best when he found Sam’s maximum pleasure spot, such a powerful and amazing feeling. 

All Sam could do was cry out a weak, “Dean…” in response.

Dean licked his lips, taking Sam’s whimper as encouragement to rub his fingertips across the bump once more. This time Sam swore he saw stars.

Dean spread his fingers in Sam’s ass, scissoring them to spread Sam open further before slipping his tongue between them, closing his lips around his rim and sucking. Then Dean slipped a third finger in, pushing it alongside the two others and leaving Sam a rambling, sobbing mess. 

“Dean, fuck me, please… feels so good, missed this, missed you, fuck me…”

He hears the rip of foil and the squelch of lube and then Dean’s there pressing the thick head of his cock against his rim and even with prep, Dean’s so big and heavy against him that Sam cried out into the sheets beneath his mouth.

Dean took his time sliding in, one hand tightly squeezing Sam’s hip and the other resting on his pec to balance his weight. Curses fell from Dean’s mouth as he bottomed out, pleased and uninhibited. Sam knew that Dean would give him time to adjust to the welcomed intrusion, so he took a deep breath and let himself be lost in the sensation. Both of Dean’s hands shifted, moving to rest on the bed on either side of Sam’s head, leaving the only point of contact between them Dean’s cock in his ass- and that made the feeling even more intense. 

After a few long seconds, Sam reached up to cradle Dean’s cheek and swiped his thumb over his soft skin to get his attention. Dean slid his gaze up to meet Sam’s, and then he nodded, letting his brother know he was ready. 

Dean gave him a firm nod, leaned forward to press their lips together, and then pulled his hips back until his cock almost left Sam’s hole. He slipped his tongue into Sam’s mouth at the exact same time he slammed his hips forward. Both of their mouths flung open against each other, gasps mixing in the air. Sam moaned loudly, bringing his hands up to Dean’s shoulder blades and digging his nails into the soft flesh there. 

“Yeah, honey, you miss this? You miss feeling me inside you? Me too, baby, me too.” Dean ranted as he thrust his hips forward over and over again, lips trailing over Sam’s jaw now. 

Sam moaned in response, adoring Dean’s filthy mouth. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been fucking back onto Dean’s cock, moving past the point of adjustment and moving right where he wanted to be. The position of his body made it difficult to thrust back into Dean but it made him work harder and he liked the feeling, especially when one particularly hard thrust grazed against his sweet spot. It made him shout, made him cry, “Dean, Dean please,” and then there were teeth digging into the junction of his jaw and neck and he practically howled. 

Dean didn’t give Sam a verbal response, rather just kept thrusting pointedly and rolling his hips. Dean was fucking him with purpose and with every ounce of his attention. He’s always had stamina unlike anyone Sam’s ever met, but his resistance never ceases to amaze. When he leaned down and pressed their bodies together, ever so carefully, Sam couldn’t help but shout at the overwhelming eroticism of being entirely surrounded by the love of his life while being fucked so fully.

“So good, baby, feels so good to have you wrapped all around me, gripping me with that tight ass, fuck,” Dean whispered into Sam’s neck. 

Dean started thrusting harder now, wiggling his hips until the angle was perfect so he could drive across Sam’s prostate each time. It made Sam’s breath leave his body in punched-out groans, every noise at this point distressed and wild, his body bouncing with the force of Dean’s movements. 

“Stroke your cock, baby,” Dean instructed gently, and Sam watched as he pinched up his face and hissed at the pleasure, his voice breathless, “Want you to feel good.”

Sam just whined as he wrapped a hand around his weeping cock. He was reduced to monosyllabic panting at this point. He was so, so close. 

Dean’s hand fell to his head and grasped at the hair on the back of his neck. “Want to hear you Sam,” he murmured. “Want to feel you. Come on. Come on.” Dean tugged at his hair and twisted, just as Sam brushed his thumb over the head of his throbbing cock.

Dean didn’t even try to kiss him, just licked into his panting mouth, gripped at his neck, and whispered, “Want you to come, come on, baby it’s been too long since I’ve seen it, can’t wait any more…”

Oh fuck. Sam couldn’t wait either, the sudden tightening in his gut at Dean’s big body pressing into his, his cock pumping gracefully and purposefully into his ass, his lips kissing at his slack mouth—it all makes his orgasm rush forth. And then the hand on the back of his neck slipped forward and there were two fingers pushing into his mouth and Sam moaned around them, sucking on them, sobbing around them and Dean pumped into his ass just a tad harder and kissed at the corner of his mouth where his fingers pressed in and—

Dean’s voice was just a shell when he commanded, “Come on, Sammy, give it to me. Come, baby.”

And then Sam’s coming and coming harder than he has in his entire life, cock spurting and drooling on its own between their bodies and he doesn’t know if Dean’s or his own noises are louder, more affected. His moans are low and long, maybe even more so because of the fingers in his mouth. His opening contracted and quivered around the thick dick in his ass and fuck he forgot how incredible Dean could make him feel. He could vaguely hear Dean shouting brokenly as he shot out his own release over the waves of heat flooding through his body, coiling around his groin and pulsing in his stomach. It made him tense his whole body and curl his toes. His eyes rolled back in his head when the fingers in his mouth left and sweet Christ, they were wrapping around his drooling cock- Sam saw stars. 

“Sam?!” Dean asked after a moment, his breath heaving as he brought a hand up to wipe the sweat off Sam’s forehead. 

Sam hummed, still trying to grasp onto reality as the aftershocks pushed through him. 

“You okay?” Dean licked his lips as he sighed out deeply, trying to get a hold on his breathing.

Sam let out a huff of breath and thought for a second, “I’m perfect. That’s the hardest I’ve come in a long time.”

Dean’s smile was brighter than the sun, and he leaned in to kiss Sam’s temple,“Me too, baby. So fuckin’ beautiful, Sam, I love watching you come, holy shit.”

The last of his orgasm was still pulsing when Dean pulled out of him, the tremors shaking down his spine and making his legs quiver. He felt boneless and pleased, and his entire body felt otherworldly. 

“Shower?” Sam asked after a moment, brows high and suggestive.

Dean laughed almost breathlessly before nodding and getting up from the bed. 

He reached down for Sam’s hand and winked, “Come on.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> Keep any comments nice please! 
> 
> Xoxo


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